When Bakas Learn
by Bluefurball
Summary: Ranma uses his head! A story of self-discovery, love, and just WHAT a baka would do when he uses his brain.
1. Prologue

Achtung! Absolute First Fanfic Alert! Proceed at own Risk!  
  
Disclaimer : The cast of Ranma½ does not belong to me, and is used   
without permission for non-profit purposes.  
  
Comments, suggestions, or just plain that you like it (if you don't,   
please tell me why) to bluefurball(at)yahoo.com Flames will be used to   
heat up cold burgers.  
  
When Bakas Learn   
by bluefurball  
  
Prologue   
========  
  
It was a quiet day at Furinkan High; Kuno got thrashed early in the   
morning, with a mere "Sayonara, _Senpai_" from Ranma as he punted the   
idiot into orbit. Akane had only shouted at Ranma once, an obviously   
half-hearted effort on her part at lunch. Shampoo hadn't turned up to   
glomp her Airen at lunch, and Ukyo was visiting her father. Ryoga was   
in Indonesia. Mousse was playing fowl. No super-powered martial artist   
had come to either prove his superiority over Ranma (pissing match),   
or get revenge for a slight - real or imaginary (grudge match), or   
even try to kidnap Akane for a bride (match from hell).  
  
For the seasoned students of the school, the majority of them were   
shifting uneasily in their seats. It had been too quiet. Some of them   
had actually begun to pray that Shampoo bash in a wall and start the   
normal chain-of-events. Some of the more prudent students (better safe   
than sorry) had approached Gosunkugi to buy a good luck charm or a   
ward.  
  
Excessive? Hardly. It's Friday, and it had been peaceful since Monday,   
with only Happosai gracing the hallowed grounds of learning on   
Tuesday, and even that was a brief run-through.  
  
Disturbing?  
  
For the resident Martial Artist God Under 20 of the district, it had   
been 5 days of bliss. Peace and quiet. Oh, he did worry about it at   
first, but decided that he would just deal with what may come. He had   
done it before, after all. Confident? Well, having torn apart and   
technically killed an immortal phoenix does wonders to one's   
self-esteem. He felt that he could have done without the debacle after   
that though. That was just plain stupid. The thought had reiterated   
itself in Ranma's head time and again, and he was glad that he kicked   
Genma's sorry behind into hospital.  
  
That he was preoccupied helped him shrug off any uneasiness he may   
have felt.  
  
As it was, Ranma sat at his desk in class. Sat and stay awake at his   
desk. Despite the fact that lunch had just finished. Not sleeping at   
his desk. Poor Fujishima-sensei was sweating, unused to the problem   
student paying even a semblance of attention to his class. One would   
have said that sweating it was a bit much, but Ranma hadn't slept in   
class since Tuesday. He hadn't napped in class at all. Not since   
Tuesday.   
  
The faculty had collectively procured thirty three of Gosunkugi's   
wards.  
  
Ranma's classmates had noticed it too. His desk was separated by at   
least 3 feet from all adjacent desks, his classmates having inched   
their own desks away from him every time he seemed to pay rapt   
attention to class. All of them - except Akane and Ranma - sat upright   
and were at full attention, eyes darting erratically from time to   
time, senses on full alert, waiting for the other shoe to drop and all   
hell to start breaking loose.  
  
Survival instincts nearly worthy of Genma Saotome.  
  
Our pigtailed martial artist, ignorant of ALL of this (were you   
expecting otherwise?), was in deep thought. Hard to believe, but there   
Ranma sat cross-legged on his chair, each hand on a knee, looking   
*quite* contemplative. His brow furrowed, indicating just how much   
effort he was putting into his thoughts. His body erect at attention,   
and his fingers tapped slightly on his knees in an erratic pattern.   
His eyes were slightly unfocused, since the mind was elsewhere. A   
modern day Aristotle, one could say.  
  
Said pigtailed martial artist was pondering a very intruiging topic.   
Three and a half days ago, during Happosai's brief romp through the   
school accompanied by his entourage (broom- & mop-wielding females out   
for his blood, or any limb), he noticed that the founder of Musabetsu   
Kakuto Ryu was heading straight for Nabiki, quite by coincidence.   
Ranma was about to leap to Nabiki's rescue, but held himself at the   
very last moment. He had never seen Happosai 'attach' himself to   
Nabiki, and he was curious how the smug, cold Ice Queen of Furinkan   
High would handle such a handling of her person.  
  
Ranma was quite surprised to see the shrunken pervert veer away from   
Nabiki, with only a glance from the girl to the pervert.  
  
"That's it? A glance and Happosai the Pervert runs away from her??"   
Ranma's mind was racing. He was the Kirin Kicker, the Trouncer of   
Toma, Hurler of Herb, Saffron Slayer - he'd even beat Cologne once,   
using the Neko-ken - and Happosai only needs to see him out of the   
corner of his perverted eyes and he'd bounce over with a filled bucket   
in one hand a brassiere in another. Without any hesitation.  
  
And Ol' Hag Nabs sent him veering away with a cursory glance.  
  
"People try very hard not to get Nabiki mad at them, but Happosai?"   
his mind was trying its very best to process the unexpected input. And   
thus, from that point on, Ranma devoted himself to trying to   
understand what he had just seen.  
  
Three days later (apparently a young, male Saotome mind does not work   
too fast outside of battle; he should be thankful, since Genma's   
hardly works at all), Ranma had gone through a number of thoughts:  
  
People are afraid of Nabiki because she can dig their dirtiest   
of dirts and blackmail them with it.  
  
Nabiki WILL find any dirt on anyone, given enough time.  
  
Since Nabiki takes quite some time to gather information, it   
is safe to conclude that she cannot read minds. Therefore, she   
must do it the old fashioned way.  
  
Most of the time Nabiki always has dirt on someone BEFORE she   
has decides to blackmail said person.  
  
This means Nabiki is always on the lookout for any useful   
information.  
  
Nabiki must be very curious.  
  
That must mean Nabiki is dangerous because she is a curious   
money-grabbing bit-err.. person.   
  
Such is the power of the teenaged Saotome mind. Needing only three and   
a half days of thought to arrive at such an astute observation.  
  
Further credit should be given though, because with a gargantuan leap,   
his mind was able to make the connection:  
  
Knowledge is Power.  
  
People are unwilling to share such knowledge or information   
because it would expose their weakness.  
  
Thus be very observant and curious, and you shall have   
knowldege, and therefore Power whenever you need it.  
  
True, anyone else at his age could have arrived at the same conclusion   
a much shorter period, but the poor lad DID spend ten years with a   
creature of doubtful intelligence outside of primal instincts, with   
the name of Saotome Genma. Being dependent on Genma, including for   
thought processes, would stunt the growth of anyone's mind.  
  
So Ranma sat in his contemplative pose, and made a decision: he would   
be very curious as well. He will not turn into another Nabiki: the   
very thought of being like her was... repulsive. Even for naive Ranma.   
No, he had decided that he would learn as many martial arts techniques   
as possible. True, he had always been on the lookout for new   
techniques, but this time, he was not going to wait until someone   
taught it to him. He would be VOC (Very Observant & Curious), and   
learn what the old pervert and ancient mummy had been keeping from   
him. Without their knowing.  
  
"And I'll be the best martial artist ever for real! I'll beat even the   
old ghoul!" he said to himself. Very pleased with himself and the   
thought of being even better, he laughed out loud, full of glee and   
anticipation.  
  
only to realize he was laughing by himself. (Damn, I gotta stop   
hanging around pig boy so much. He's actually rubbing onto me!).   
Having vowed to do so, he focused his eyes and looked forward.  
  
To find Fujishima-sensei pressing his back to the writing board, and   
his classmates out of their seats and hugging the walls, each with a   
very worried expression. Only Akane remained in her seat, with a   
concerned look on her face.  
  
"S-s-saotome. B-buckets. Hall. N-now," Fujishima-sensei managed,   
finger pointing shakily towards the door.  
  
The young Saotome heaved a sigh, and stood up with a tired "Hai,   
sensei." At least he got more time to practice thinking.  
  
==========  
  
Tendo Akane walked out of the school building, school having ended a   
few minutes ago.  
  
"Hey Akane. What's wrong with Ranma?" quizzed Sayuri, walking   
alongside the Tendo girl.  
  
"Yeah, Akane! I never thought I'd say this, but Ranma spooks me now --   
well just a bit," Yuka eyed her short haired friend.  
  
"You're not the only one Yuka. Did you see how pale Fujishima-sensei   
was? I thought he was going to have a heart attack!"  
  
"I don't know you guys. He's been keeping quiet at home too," the   
Tendo heir finally said. "I haven't asked him about it yet. At first I   
thought he wants to be nicer to me. You know, keeping quiet rather   
than saying anything stupid. But now..." she sighed.  
  
"Did it seem like he was doing that? Being nice I mean."  
  
"Well, I don't know. But then when he looks at me, he'd smile at me,   
and I think that was what he was really doing."  
  
"Oooohh Sayuri! Have you EVER seen a girl so in love before? Did you   
see the faraway look in her eyes when she said that?"  
  
"You're right Yuka! You can hear her voice heavy with worry and   
concern and longing for her true love!" the other girl said, her   
somewhat dramatic speech spurred by the thoughts of knights in shining   
armour.  
  
"Can you blame her? Ranma's one big hunk!"  
  
"It-it-it's not like that! I was just worried! And he's not a hunk!   
He's -"  
  
"Hiya AkanwhatdidIdooooooooooo........"  
  
Saotome Ranma had earlier decided to approach his fiancee and walk   
home with her. Unfortunately he had butted into the conversation at   
a... sensitive moment for Akane.  
  
Who, by reflex, sent him flying.  
  
"Damnit! Arrgghh!! I wanted to walk home with him! Baka baka baka!"   
One would have a hard time trying to tell if Akane was talking about   
Ranma, or herself.  
  
"Akane, why don't you rush home and wait for him. Then you can tell   
him you're sorry or something."  
  
"Sayuri's right. We'll see you tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"You're right! I'll see you guys tomorrow! Bye!" Without another word,   
Akane rushed home.  
  
Yuka blink-blinked with an audible piku-piku. "Sayuri."  
  
"Yes Yuka?"  
  
"She didn't even say her usual 'why should I apologize to that   
baka?'".  
  
Sayuri nodded, eyes still on her friend rushing home. "Yuka."  
  
"Yes Sayuri?"  
  
"Our friend is in love."  
  
*sniff* "I know. Isn't it beautiful?"  
  
And thus, they said their goodbyes for the day, and went on home.   
Leaving one to wonder if smashing one's fiance into the sky was a   
beautiful thing.  
  
==========  
  
"Uncute, uncute, uncute tomboy! What the hell was that for?" Ranma was   
flying through Nerima airspace, courtesy of Akane.   
  
He decided to enjoy the moment and take in the view, turning his back   
to the ground and looked up a the blue, slightly clouded sky. A   
beautiful afternoon. He should consider lucky, he guessed, since not   
many people get this perspective. There's Kuno, but... Ranma's mind   
prudently decided not to go there.  
  
The pigtailed youth was taking in the view when he suddenly felt the   
change of trajectory as he passed the apex of his parabolic flight   
path. With a "What the? It's too soon!" he looked to the ground for   
reference.  
  
(What? Is she sick or something? This ain't even half the height she   
normally kicks me to! Aww man, I hope she's alright. Have to find out   
later back home.)  
  
Ranma didn't realize that he did not even try to deny to himself that   
he was somewhat worried about his short-haired fiancee. Nor did he   
realize that he just called the Tendo dojo, his home. One could argue   
that he's got it bad for the Tendo girl.  
  
Another could argue it's the newspaper that somehow found its way into   
his face.  
  
Distracted, Ranma couldn't take the necessary measures for a proper   
landing. And thus he fell into the ground.  
  
Onto a mattress, conveniently placed to break the fall of super   
martial artists who somehow ticked off their fiances. It is Nerima   
after all.  
  
"Huh? Mattress?" he looked around. (Oh right, Tofu-sensei's. The   
tomboy even sent me to a friend's. Damn, I guess I should do something   
nice for her later. Hmmm. Let's see if Tofu's around.)  
  
==========   
-A few hours later.-  
  
Ranma pushed open the front gates of the Tendo dojo, in deep thought,   
again, this time about what the good doctor had told him. In such deep   
thought was he, that he had forgotten to find Akane as he had   
orginally planned. By autopilot he walked into the house, kicked off   
his shoes, and went into the kitchen.  
  
To be broken out of his reverie when he felt himself hugged TIGHT.  
  
"Gaah! Oh hiya mom. Sorry bout that. For a moment I thought you were   
an Amazon," he said as he hugged his mother in return. (You sure hug   
like one. I knew I couldn't have gotten my strength from Pop alone).  
  
"Oh I'm sorry dear, but your mother is so proud to have such a manly   
son," Nodoka said, and started to fuss over Ranma like only a mother   
seperated from her child for ten years could. Soon Ranma was sitting   
at the kitchen table with tea and snacks, along with Kasumi and his   
mother.  
  
Normally someone his age -- a boy no less -- would prefer to sit with   
someone his age and gender. To Ranma, anyone who isn't out to marry   
him or kill him is good enough for him.  
  
Especially if they had food.  
  
They made small talk, not something Ranma knew much about. He was   
learning from his mother, albeit slowly. Among other things that other   
people take for granted. Table manners, for instance. Common courtesy.   
Not to mention the common sense to shut up rather than say the first   
thing that came to mind in delicate situations.  
  
Honest to goodness skills that people should have, but quite a number   
don't. Ranma gets used as an example just because he stands out from   
the rest of the crowd.  
  
Thanking his mother and Kasumi, he left for the dojo, hoping to try   
and practice what Tofu had explained earlier. Closing the shoji behind   
him, he sat down cross-legged on the floor and recalled the kind   
doctor's words.  
  
(To learn without being thought, you have to touch, see, hear,   
smell and feel your intended sensei. Merely observing your   
target will not work; you must do it at a level so high that   
you _experience_ what they do. From there, all will be   
revealed. Your quarry will not co-operate, so you have to   
observe from afar. There lies your first goal: to hone your   
senses so that you can experience what your target is   
experiencing from a distance. Most preferably without them   
noticing you. Ki alone would not suffice; adepts like Cologne   
and Happosai would sense you prodding them in no time flat. To   
enhance your senses, you must understand them. Know your   
surroundings. Use your ki to feel your surroundings. Compare   
them with what your senses tell you. From there you can   
understand your senses. If you succeed, you will know them for   
what they are, and can work to improve them. But only then.)  
  
Ranma smiled at the thought of the friendly doctor's words.   
Tofu-sensei had even shown him some text on the subject of senses.   
Unfortunately the texts had hardly shed any light on the matter, and   
Ranma had to stick to Tofu's words.  
  
He had asked Tofu why the doctor couldn't do what Ranma wanted to do,   
since he did know the general technique after all. Tofu had turned to   
Ranma, smiled, and said "My old professor once said to me: 'Those who   
know, do. Those who don't, teach.' I only know the theory Ranma-kun,   
but I don't really know how to do it properly. So I teach. To you."  
  
Ranma sighed just slightly, resigned to the fact that he had his work   
cut out for him. With that, he closed his eyes, and hoped that it   
would not take too long.  
  
He might miss dinner.  
  
==========  
  
"Auntie, where's Ranma?"  
  
"I'm not sure Akane-chan. He had tea with me when he came back home. I   
thought you wanted to join us."  
  
"I-" she paused. She was about to deny that she did want to have tea   
Ranma, but couldn't bring herself to vocalize her denials for Nodoka's   
piercing gaze dared her to be less than honest; gentle, but piercing   
nonetheless.  
  
"Hai. I wanted to, but he took so long, so I went up to my room. I- I   
fell asleep. Sorry, auntie."  
  
"Now Akane-chan, there's no need to apologize. Besides, you can feast   
your eyes on my manly son soon enough," the Saotome matriach said, a   
mischievous glint reaching her eyes.  
  
"I- I-"  
  
"Don't worry dear, you'll see him at dinner. You know how he is,"   
Nodoka decided it was quite endearing to see her future   
daughter-in-law get flustered like that. Well, it was a bit fun, too.  
  
"But- but-"  
  
"You feel that that is too long? Oh how lucky my son is! To get a   
fiancee who admit she misses him for every moment he's not with her!   
Oh Akane-chan, you make me so happy!" she was quite relentless.  
  
Akane's face has adopted a new shade: pale and red. There she was,   
being embarrassed by her future mother-in-law (the red), and the older   
female was practically _squealing_ with delight, for all to hear.   
  
For ALL to hear (yes, the paleness).  
  
"Oh my! Imouto-chan, you've admitted your feelings for Ranma?" Kasumi   
appeared out of nowhere.  
  
"Oh happy day! My baby girl has finally declared her love for Ranma!   
She's going to get married! Bwaaahhhhhhhhhh!!" Fountain-san too.  
  
"There, there father, don't cry like that."  
  
"At last Tendo, our schools will be joined! Our dreams will come   
true!" Guess who.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
A small sound, but it was enough. Nodoka had sent the two idiots out   
of the room hastily.  
  
Akane let out a small sigh of relief. At least Nabiki didn't hear the   
commotion.  
  
"Oh my, auntie. What do you think Nabiki will say when she hears about   
this?"  
  
The youngest Tendo felt like taking a long training trip. Alone.  
  
(Well, not alone. I want Ranma to -... What am I saying??)  
  
Nodoka and Kasumi watched with quiet smiles as Akane turned red as a   
tomato and rushed to her room.  
  
==========  
  
Ranma was sweating. A normal enough occurrance for him. It was just   
that normally, when Ranma was sweating, he would most likely be   
bouncing off the walls or roofs or firing chi-blasts or running from   
Akane (he'd sweat a lot more if Akane was carrying a plate of HER food   
for him).  
  
At the moment, he was sitting in a lotus position on the floor, and...   
that was it. He was sweating by sitting down.  
  
Well, he seemed to be merely sitting down in the dojo. But for the   
past 3 hours, he had been extending his chi, trying to corellate the   
various stimuli surrounding him with his actual experiences. Even with   
Tofu's earlier instructions, he found it to be very, very hard.  
  
The concept was easy enough. A certain stimulus, for example light,   
would be interpreted in a certain way by the brain. By enveloping   
oneself in a layer of chi, one could detect an incoming stimulus as it   
passes through the field of chi. The stimulus, let's say green light,   
would leave an imprint in the chi field that would be exclusive to   
green light. The light would then reach the retina, and be interpreted   
by the brain as being green. Thus, the practitioner would know that   
what had passed through the chi field was green light, and he would   
recognise green light in its raw form.  
  
That would mean that his eyes would be wherever he extended his chi   
to. However, the point was to avoid detection by ki-adepts, and such a   
technique would be useless. Therefore, if one were to channel and   
focus chi tightly into the cornea, one would be able to sense every   
stimulus, including ambient energy that bombard the cornea; even those   
that does not make it to the retina.  
  
The perfect eye.  
  
By adjusting the amount of chi focused, one would be able to select   
what stimulus to highlight, and which to ignore. Which sense should be   
hyper-sensitive, which one to dull. With enough practice, the entire   
electromagnetic spectrum would be visible, from radiofrequency on one   
end of the spectrum, to gamma rays on the other. Wihout harming the   
precious retina.  
  
Billions and billions of yen worth of equipment in one little organic   
package.  
  
This principle could be applied to all other senses. Should one gain   
complete mastery the technique for all the senses, he (or she) could   
hear light, feel sound, see the taste of food, touch scents, and many,   
many more. Chi and ki would be seen, heard, smelt, tasted and felt;   
from there all secrets would eventually become unravelled. And all   
done internally, without screaming one's intention to ki-adepts.  
  
An awe-inspiring ability. Ranma would be able to become quite well   
informed.  
  
At the moment however, Ranma continued to sweat. It was turning out to   
be harder than he had thought.   
  
"This," he sighed "will take some time."  
  
==========  
  
(Just WHAT is that baka doing in there?) a certained short-haired girl   
in the Tendo house fumed to herself.  
  
(It's been seven days! Seven whole days!) she was currently sitting at   
the porch overlooking the koi pond.  
  
(Coming out only to eat, sleep, do Hinako-sensei's homework!) her brow   
furrowed cutely as she focused her thoughts on a certain someone.  
  
(He did come out three days ago, but that was just to flirt with that   
damn bimbo and that- that- that crossdressing cook!) she started to   
clench her small fists on her lap.  
  
(And when Ryouga-kun came to visit yesterday, all he did was pick on   
him! That jerk!) her knuckles popped as she clenched her fists   
tighter.  
  
(He is SUCH a JERK! Keeping to himself like that! Like we're not good   
enough for him to talk to!) a slightly visible aura lit up around her.  
  
(He- he-) the aura flared up considerably. Had anyone seen it, they   
would have taken a step or five backwards.  
  
(He doesn't talk to me anymore,) thought Tendo Akane sadly, as her   
shoulders drooped and her anger deflated.  
  
(Oh Ranma you jerk. Please talk to me.)  
  
"There Akane, don't look so sad," said Saotome Nodoka as she appeared   
at the girl's side. Akane was a bit startled, but checked herself from   
flinching visibly.  
  
The older woman gathered her in a motherly embrace. "You know how he   
is."  
  
Akane nodded. A comfortable silence wafted through the air.  
  
"But I must admit. I'm beginning to worry for my son as well. It _has_   
been quite some time since he started... whatever it is he's doing."  
  
"I wish I knew what he was doing. This is the first time that he's   
kept quiet like this. Usually if he's learning a new technique, we at   
least _knew_ what he's doing. The Kaatchu Tenshin Amaguriken, the   
Hiryuu Shoten Ha -- even the Mouko Takabisha. At least we knew what he   
was doing. That he was alright," said the girl, in a small voice.  
  
(Oh dear. Akane seems to be very upset.) Nodoka turned her gaze   
towards the dojo. (Ranma my son, as much as I am proud of your pursuit   
of the Art, I hope you come out of that dojo soon.)  
  
She looked down at Akane, who was leaning into her chest, obviously   
cherishing Nodoka's motherly embrace; it had been too long since she   
had had the luxury. "Don't worry dear. Maybe it's something only he   
can see," she said, not knowing how right she was. "We'll just have to   
trust him," she said with a smile.  
  
Akane noticed the smile in Nodoka's voice and looked up into the older   
woman's face, a small smile of her own forming. "I guess you're r-"  
  
Her speech was cut off by a jubilant "YATTA!"  
  
==========  
  
He'd done it! He'd finally done it! After days of gruelling   
meditation, he'd finally done it!  
  
It wasn't the gradual increase he expected. One moment, he sat in the   
darkened dojo. Then suddenly, enlightenment came, and his world   
exploded into colours and sounds and smells and sensations that he   
felt and heard and saw and smelled and tasted from head to toe! His   
mental preparation spared him from collapsing in agony from the   
overwhelming experience, but nothing could contain his euphoria.  
  
The feeling was indescribable! He saw more of everything in every   
direction. He felt that he could hear the heart-beat of a mouse ten   
miles away! He could-  
  
"Yuck!"  
  
He could smell himself.  
  
"Bathroom here I come! Damn, that was hard work!" he said as he cut   
off the excess chi to his senses -- except his cornea -- and opened   
the dojo doors. He paused as he took in his surroundings.  
  
Everything was different. Same, but different. He saw everything   
differently. Deciding to test his new abilities, he jumped onto the   
perimeter wall, and then onto the dojo roof. He let loose a bit of   
chi.  
  
He took a sharp breath. From the elevated vantage point, the   
experience of early evening Nerima was even more breathtaking.   
  
Colors everywhere, from walls, roofs, birds flying above. Sensations   
from various distances; he lifted his hand, and reached out.  
  
And gasped. He could _touch_ the neighbours roof. From where he stood.   
By merely touching the light waves that bounced off it towards him!   
The shingle felt slightly coarse, a toll it took from the weather. He   
not only felt the texture, but also the colour. He could feel a   
residual amount of chi on the shingle, probably where a bird had   
landed some time ago.   
  
He reached out again, this time at nothing in particular. He could   
feel the differing temperatures of air at various levels; a minute   
variance from each other, but he felt it all the same.  
  
He heard the laughter of a girl, and he turned around, wondering what   
a girl was doing on the roof with him. To find no one there. Again he   
heard the girl, replying to her friend, who was also out of sight.   
From his vantage point, he searched the roads around the dojo. Two   
boys, and elderly man, a middle aged housewife with her son was all he   
saw. No girls. He could hear people out of sight.  
  
Deciding to test his new skills further, he focused more chi into his   
cornea.  
  
And immediately got a close up of a caterpillar munching on a leaf.  
  
(Huh?) He cut off his chi, and looked for the tree on which the little   
insect-to-be could possibly be on.   
  
(Huh? Where's the tree? There's nothing but roofs and roofs. The park   
ain't in that direction. That ain't the way to school either.)  
  
Puzzled, he slowly channeled his chi, giving him the impression that   
he's slowly zooming across the rooftops using an expensive camera.   
  
(Whu..?) he managed, as his view passed a prominent sign in the   
shopping district, a good fifteen blocks away from the dojo.   
  
He continued for about twenty seconds, until his view came to a tree.   
Very slowly he zoomed in just a bit more, until he came to spy on a   
lone catterpillar, fat and green, munching away happily on a leaf.  
  
Dampening the chi supply, he considered the tree. (That... that tree   
is... more than three miles away! No way! This-)  
  
"Son? Are you alright?"  
  
"Huh?" An articulate response.  
  
He looked down, and saw his mother and Akane standing on the stone   
path towards, the dojo, looking up at him on the roof.  
  
Again he gasped. He saw his mother as he had never seen her before.   
Upon the regal image of Saotome Nodoka, he saw - he _felt_ a multitude   
of colours, emotions. He felt concern. He felt relief. He felt the   
untold love of a mother for her child.  
  
Although he had never been cold at heart to his mother, Ranma's heart   
melted, and jumped down right in front of her, giving her a tight   
embrace. The contact made him feel his mother even more, but the dam   
truly broke when he felt his mother return his embrace, flooding him   
his senses; he knew there and then, that his mother was proud of him   
no matter what others might say, and would have him no other way.   
  
(I love you mother.)  
  
(I love you my son.)  
  
"Umm.."  
  
A gesture was made to attract attention, and attract their attention   
it did. Breaking the embrace, he looked at Akane, hyper senses still   
active.  
  
And got an eyeful of Akane's aura.  
  
"Kami-sama..." the pigtailed boy whispered. THIS, he had not expected.  
  
-End prologue-  
  
  
  
Note : A HUGE thank you to my pre-readers   
  
Nathan Shuker- who helped show me just how atrocious my   
grammar and spelling really were   
  
Ranma Saotome- who gave me suggestions on how to write   
the fic better. 


	2. Chapter 1

Warning! Amatch-ur write-ur! Second Chapter Ev-ur! Warning!   
  
Rated PG-13 for the occasional swearing.   
  
Disclaimer : The characters used in this fanfiction do not belong to   
me, and are used without permission for non-profit purposes.   
  
NOTE: To avoid confusion, I have decided to use a certain fanfic   
convention, where 'chi' is used to refer to a person's own life   
energy, while 'ki' refers to ambient life energy. Thus, your chi would   
be my ki, and vice versa. Hope that clears it up.   
  
Comments? Suggestions? Love it? Hate it? Why do you love it? Why do   
you hate it? Email me at bluefurball(at)yahoo.com Flames   
will be ignored.   
  
  
When Bakas Learn   
by bluefurball   
  
Chapter 1   
==========   
  
For the fourteenth time in ten minutes, Saotome Ranma gave a silent   
"thank you" to Kami-sama for the fact that his new-found skills   
required conscious effort.   
  
He quietly accepted the bowl of rice offered to him by Kasumi, all the   
while keeping his eyes on the on the table, not daring to look   
up. More specifically, not daring to look to his right, where Akane   
sat.   
  
As it was, he was very conscious of Akane sitting next to him. His chi   
was reigned in tightly, but he was acutely aware of the centimeter   
separating his knee from Akane's. He could feel her warmth, radiating   
from her, seeping slightly into his right leg. Ironically, the warmth   
sent chills down his spine, alternating with warmth that so   
confusingly came from his own heart. Akane, who now had her own bowl   
of rice cupped in her left hand, leaned to her left to reach for the   
stewed beef. She was wearing a half-thigh skirt, and her bare knee   
touched Ranma's.   
  
His chopsticks fell onto the table with a clatter.   
  
All eyes turned to Ranma. His expression was that of a deer that   
realized it was in the path of a train, while his right hand twitched   
quite noticeably every two seconds or so.   
  
"Ranma, dear. Are you alright?" Saotome Nodoka had earlier noticed how   
close Akane and her son sat, and her heart had warmed at the sight of   
Akane taking surreptitious glances at Ranma. Her beloved son, much to   
her surprise, had acted _quite_ bashful.   
  
(Better than being wishy-washy, I suppose,) she thought.   
  
"Ranma? Are you okay?" Akane asked. Concern was quite visible on her   
face.   
  
The pigtailed boy nodded his head vigorously. It was strangely   
reminiscent of how Soun shook his head when a panda had stepped into   
his house more than a year ago.   
  
"You sure?" she continued, not satisfied with his reaction.   
  
Again, tight-lipped, he nodded his head vigorously. Grabbing his   
chopsticks, he raised his bowl to his face and gave everyone at the   
table a front-row seat of his impromptu revision of the Saotome Secret   
Technique: Rice Bowl of Invisibility.   
  
It was as effective as an ostrich burying its head in the ground.   
  
Seeing that no answer was coming from Ranma, everyone turned to their   
own food and started eating.   
  
"So, son. What technique have you learned?" Genma said after a few   
minutes of silence. He sat beside Nodoka, and was eating ONLY his   
food; the presence of his wife did wonders for the peace of the dinner   
table.   
  
"Eh?" said the rice bowl.   
  
"You spent a week in the dojo alone boy! And I heard you yell out   
earlier! You've learned a new technique! What is it?"   
  
"Uh.. it's-" Ranma tried to find the exact words to best describe his   
new skills, when thoughts from a week ago came back to him.   
  
(People are unwilling to share such knowledge or information because   
it would expose their weakness.)   
  
His face twisted slightly into a thoughtful frown as his mind took   
over.   
  
(Can't let them know about this! Once it gets out every old bat, freak   
and moron will stay out of my sight!) thought the young Saotome, who   
obviously had adopted endearing nicknames for some people.   
  
(Shit! Here goes nothing... please Kami-sama let them believe this.)   
  
"It's not a technique pop."   
  
"What?! Don't lie to your father boy!"   
  
"I ain't lyin'! It's not a technique! I just have a new view on life!"   
  
*Snap* went Genma's chopsticks.   
  
(Please buy it please buy it please buy it please let pop buy it   
Nabiki too please please please)   
  
"You... what?" said Genma, shock evident on his face.   
  
"I spent the last week thinking of how to improve myself," said the   
pigtailed boy, brain working in overdrive to come up with a plausible   
twist to the truth.   
  
"You... were... thinking?" Genma fumbled, obviously having trouble   
associating his son with such an act.   
  
Mostly because the concept of thinking had of late become quite alien   
to him.   
  
"Yeah! You got a problem with that?"   
  
The elder Saotome took a deep breath, and with obvious restraint, said   
"And what exactly is your... new view on life?"   
  
"I wanna learn as much as possible."   
  
*Twitch* went Genma's left eyebrow. He was obviously on the verge   
of... something.   
  
"Why Ranma, that's absolutely wonderful!" piped in Nodoka. At last,   
her son had realised the importance of education and wanted to improve   
his grades!   
  
"I've brought you up to be the best martial artist ever, and you want   
to be a NERD?!"   
  
"Now, now, Genma dear. Our son wants to better himself. Not in the   
Art, true, but education is so very important nowdays. You should be   
proud of him," Nodoka patted her husband gently on his back.   
  
"I will-"   
  
"You will give him your full support, won't you _dear_?" Nodoka   
interjected smoothly, deftly insinuating her iron will into the last   
word. The last time Genma had his way, she had lost her son for ten   
years. Ten years to temper her will, and she would die before she   
failed her beloved son again.   
  
"But... but..." Genma sputtered. He had planned on putting down his   
foot to overrule his misguided son and wife, as he had done more than   
ten years ago. Nodoka had all but decapitated his plan.   
  
"Oh my, father. Is Uncle Saotome starting to cry?"   
  
"Calm down dear. Here, have some more chicken. And some pickles.   
Kasumi, some more rice for my dear husband, if you please."   
  
"Here you go, Uncle Saotome," said Kasumi, with her eternal angelic   
smile.   
  
Genma nodded dumbly, burying himself (metaphorically, of course) in   
his dinner. A father could take only so much after all. Thank   
Kami-sama he had a wonderful wife who knew just how to comfort him in   
his hour of grief.   
  
Not that he was too hard to understand, being as predictable as a   
jukebox.   
  
(Oh Kami, thank you.) Ranma was being quite religious that evening.   
(Now for Nabiki... this is going to be harder than Pops.)   
  
Ranma braced himself for the impending onslaught.   
  
Only sounds of chewing and Genma's sniffling graced his ears.   
  
(Any moment now...)   
  
More chewing.   
  
(Huh? She missed her cue?) he thought, looking up to Nabiki's place.   
  
Which was occupied by a few cubic feet of air.   
  
"Err... where's Nabiki?"   
  
"Goodness, son. You were really lost in thought in the dojo, weren't   
you?"   
  
"Err... I guess so. What does that have to do with Nabiki?"   
  
"Only that she's gone for the a class trip to Yokohama for the   
weekend."   
  
"She is?" said Ranma, with a puzzled look, which slowly turned into a   
goofy, relieved grin. (Oh thank you Kami-sama. Thank you thank you   
thank you! I'll never do anything bad ev- emm.. I'll never tell a lie   
ev- emm... I'll say some very nice things to the next priest I meet.   
Yeah! That's it! Thank you, Kami-sama!)   
  
Elated and relieved at the good news, he resumed to eat at his normal   
pace, a rate that could shame industrial-strength vacuum pumps.   
  
Finishing the last of his food, he patted his tummy, a huge grin on   
his face. "Ahh... that hit the spot. Great cooking Mom, Kasumi."   
  
"Auntie cooked most of the food Ranma, I just helped a bit," Kasumi   
stated modestly. A slight blush adorned her cheeks; that Ranma could   
be _such_ a tease!   
  
"Ranma, where are you going?" said the youngest Tendo as Ranma walked   
out of the dining room.   
  
Akane's voice stopped Ranma in his tracks.   
  
"I... uh... umm... going to... umm... wh- why do you ask?"   
  
"Well, there's a movie on the tv in three hours... I was wondering if   
you'd like to- to watch it with me," she managed to say. Her voice   
was barely audible by the end of her sentence, as she was very   
conscious of the collective gazes her and Ranma's families gave her.   
  
Genma started to say something, but somehow Nodoka's gentle hand on   
his shoulder cut off his words.   
  
"I... uh... anoo... that is... I..." Ranma managed, quite eloquently.   
He had planned on practicing his new skills in the dojo right after   
dinner. A great battle (or act of great thievery, take your pick) was   
going to take place tomorrow, and he had to make sure that he was   
prepared. There was no time to waste, especially not with the tomboy!   
  
All that was left was to convince himself that he really didn't want   
to take up Akane's invitation.   
  
Soun decided to take the baton from his friend and speak for the boy.   
There was only one thing to say, after all. He opened his mouth, but   
shut it quite promptly when Nodoka gave him a curious-looking smile.   
  
(Argghh! What's happening here?) Ranma screamed inwardly. It was   
supposed to be a simple affair; get up from the dinner table while   
ignoring all feelings for a certain somebody because that would make   
him think of things that was NOT prepared for, and go into the dojo   
and practice. Not to hide. Definitely not. Seriously.   
  
(Gotta get outta here! Saotome Final Attack Revised! Insult Fiancee   
and Get Punted out of Town!)   
  
"Ranma would love to join you, Akane," said Nodoka.   
  
(Huh? Mom?)   
  
Nodoka turned to her son and gave him a smile. "You have been hard at   
work all week, dear. You should get some rest, and I don't mean   
sleeping."   
  
"Really?"   
  
Nodoka's gentle smile calmed him somewhat. "Of course, Ranma. Sleeping   
might freshen your body, but your mind needs a different kind of   
rest."   
  
"Uhh... if you say so Mom. Emm... in three hours right? I- I'll be in   
the dojo till then," he said, quickly stepping out of the room before   
anyone else could vocalize any more ideas.   
  
Turning back towards the table to help Kasumi with the dishes, Nodoka   
found Akane smiling at her with a look of relief and gratitude.   
  
"Thank you, auntie," she said quietly.   
  
Nodoka merely returned her smile, and patted Akane's hand on the table   
gently.   
  
"You're more than welcome, dear."   
  
==========   
  
"Saotome."   
  
"Yes, Tendo?"   
  
They were sitting across the shogi board again, Soun smoking a   
cigarrette.   
  
"She's astounding."   
  
"Who is, Tendo? Look Tendo! A shooting star!"   
  
They were playing their version of shogi.   
  
"Where? Eh? But we're indoors, Saotome... huh? Now that's odd," said   
Soun. He scratched his head, and continued, "Your wife, Nodoka. She   
was amazing, Saotome."   
  
"That she is, Soun," Genma paused. "By the look in the boy's eyes, I   
thought that he would say something unkind to Akane." Placing a piece   
on the board, he said "We were lucky she was there, old friend."   
  
"I agree. Her skills are formidable, Saotome."   
  
"Very, Tendo."   
  
"We should've roped her in from the start."   
  
"Live and learn, Tendo. Live and learn."   
  
==========   
  
Akane looked at the clock on the living room wall.   
  
(Where is that baka?)   
  
A bowl of mixed nuts and two covered mugs of hot cocoa sat on the   
table, courtesy of Kasumi.   
  
(It's five minutes till the show!)   
  
She was dressed in her yellow pyjamas, two pillows by her side.   
  
(He'd better not forget...)   
  
The room was dark, save for the television, which was showing an   
advertisement for an isotonic drink.   
  
She looked at the clock.   
  
(Four minutes... )   
  
Two more commercials, and she glanced at the wall clock again.   
  
(That's it! I'm going to drag him in here by his pigtail if I have   
to!)   
  
Just as she was about to get up, the shoji slid open, and Ranma   
stepped in.   
  
Her back facing the sliding door, Akane put on her best expression of   
disapproval. He had always looked cute as he floundered trying to come   
up with explanations, and the sight of that was just what she needed   
to ease the irritation she felt earlier. It was a small matter,   
really, but one had to stick to principals, after all. "It's about   
time you got in here. The movie's about to start," she said, turning   
around.   
  
Ranma did not so much as walk into the room as he did stagger. Looking   
extremely drained from his workout, he sat by the table opposite   
Akane. Wordlessly, he grabbed one of the mugs, and downed its contents   
in a few loud gulps.   
  
"Ahhh..."   
  
Putting the mug back on the low table, he sat facing the television,   
hands on his knees.   
  
(What's wrong with him? He's not saying anything!)   
  
She turned to look at the television, then back at Ranma.   
  
Who was still in the same position.   
  
"Ranma?"   
  
No response came.   
  
"Ranma?" she said, a bit louder.   
  
Still no response. A sliver of worry formed in her chest; a sliver,   
but cold nonetheless.   
  
"Ranma? What's wrong?" said Akane, tentatively reaching out for her   
fiance.   
  
The only sound came from the television. She touched his shoulder.   
  
"Zzzz....."   
  
Akane promptly rediscovered the taste of tatami as she face faulted.   
Leave it to a male Saotome to fall asleep with his eyes open.   
  
She got up with a sigh, and stared at her sleeping fiance.   
  
"Baka." she said softly, shaking her head.   
  
Grabbing one of the pillows, she slowly pushed Ranma onto his back,   
resting his head on the pillow. She straightened his legs and put his   
arms by his side.   
  
She took her own pillow, and lay by his side, facing the television.   
Akane looked at her sleeping fiance.   
  
(Baka) she thought, without any real malice or anger.   
  
(So much for resting the mind.) she sighed.   
  
(At least he didn't forget.)   
  
With that, she turned her attention to the movie, a smile on her face.   
  
==========   
-The Next Day-   
  
It was a beautiful Saturday morning. The sun shone unhindered, the sky   
was fantastically blue, the clouds mere wisps, giving one the perfect   
opportunity to gaze into the sky and lose oneself in its vastness. The   
air was so fresh and crisp, that one could not help but feel alive,   
and the slight breeze carried with it the simple yet contagious   
excitement of a new day. Even those who usually did not welcome   
mornings felt that everything was right, and that they could take on   
the world that day.   
  
(Man, I feel I can take on the world!) See?   
  
(Heck! Make that the world AND the old ghoul!)   
  
Yes, even the very embodiment of disorder -- though not by choice -   
was not immune to the wonderful morning.   
  
(Better watch out old ghoul, here I come!)   
  
A smirk crept into his face without his realizing it. He was walking   
towards the Neko-hanten, with a secret mission: to steal Cologne's   
secrets, from right under her wrinkled, ancient, shrunken nose.   
  
His purposeful stride, as well as the smirk was broken as a thought   
crossed his mind: what if Cologne caught him? She'd been around before   
Nerima got its name, and undoubtedly had a lot of tricks up her   
voluminous (though rather short) sleeves. There was no telling what   
she would do to him, what with the unyielding martial laws of her   
village and the tenacity with which she upheld said laws.   
  
(Heh. Let her try.)   
  
He continued forward, though his heartbeat had risen a bit. The risk   
of being caught fueled his anticipation and gave rise to his   
excitement. The familiar smirk crept into his face again; THIS was   
what he lived for! The Art. Unadulterated, dangerous, pure and deadly.   
For this he would sacrifice his life. For the Art he would walk into   
the lion's *shudder* den; there was no other way he would live his   
life.   
  
Not to mention that he wouldn't have time to think about Akane.   
  
(Damnit! Why do I hafta think about that tomboy now?)   
  
Yes, Saotome Ranma was at a loss of what to do or think. Yesterday,   
during that brief glance in the early evening, he saw and felt   
something that he thought he'd never see from the short-haired girl.   
  
He felt lo-   
  
"But that can't be fucking right!" he exclaimed as he killed that line   
of thought, oblivious to the looks of passers-by. (She hates being   
engaged to me! She's said that so many times! There's no way she'd lo-   
lo- err.. like me if she hates the damn engagement!)   
  
He came across a pebble and kicked it absent-mindedly. The poor piece   
of stone skittered down the cement road, for two hundred and eight   
meters before it finally lost momentum and came to a stop.   
  
(And what the hell was that thing with the knee about?!) he grumbled.   
The smoothness of Akane's skin had penetrated the fabric of his   
drawstring pants. An electric shock couldn't have made him drop his   
chopsticks any faster.   
  
(Maybe I should start wearin' jeans,) he thought, and subconciously   
reached down to scratch his knee. He could still feel it tingling, and   
a mental picture of Akane smiling came to his mind.   
  
Which he banished by smashing his forehead into a nearby concrete   
wall.   
  
(Focus! Gotta focus! Soul of ice... soul of ice...)   
  
Having taken a few deep breaths to achieve the desired state of mind,   
he slowly stepped away from the wall and resumed his walk.   
  
"Ano... young man," said an elderly gentleman, standing next to the   
wall.   
  
"Excuse me, son!" he called out again, louder this time. Ranma still   
showed no sign of hearing him.   
  
"Someone has to pay for this!" said the elderly man. He looked at   
Ranma, then to his wall, which had gained a roughly circular   
depression. Spider-web cracks radiated from the depression, courtesy   
of the pigtailed boy's forehead.   
  
"Ah, who am I kidding?" he sighed. Turning around to enter his house,   
he muttered "At least he only gave it a small crack. That boy with the   
fangs would've given me a new gate."   
  
==========   
  
(Well, this is it.)   
  
Ranma was a few meters away from the corner that stood between him and   
the Neko-hanten. He could not imagine how much he'd be fidgeting at   
the moment if he had not immersed himself in the Soul of Ice.   
  
He channeled the minimum amount of chi required into his cornea, skin   
and on his eardrums, as well as his cochlea. His traning session the   
night before had been extremely draining, but it had been worth it.   
  
Thinking of the general direction of the Neko-hanten, he filtered out   
the irrelevant input from the surrounding areas. Immediately he heard   
Shampoo singing to herself as she went about her duties. Pumping more   
chi, Mousse could be heard wiping the tables with a slightly abrasive   
piece of cloth. Then came the sound of broth bubbling on a stove,   
and the tap-tapping sound of Cologne's pogoing on her cane as his   
hearing reached the kitchen.   
  
"Great grandmother! Shampoo go make delivery now!" he heard the bubbly   
Amazon call out in her cute, sing-song voice.   
  
(All right! Perfect!) he thought, jumping over the wall and hiding   
behind it.   
  
Shampoo's passage rang like sweet bells to his ears. A major problem   
had taken care of itself. He jumped over the wall and proceeded   
towards the Neko-hanten.   
  
(Hmm... the ghoul's in the kitchen. Hafta get past that idiot Mous-)   
  
A smile slowly crept into his face.   
  
(Mousse! Perfect! I've always wanted to know how he stuffs all those   
things up his sleeves!) Ranma was nearly rubbing his hands in glee.   
(Not to mention I get some real life practice before I move on to   
uglier fish!)   
  
Cologne definitely had a point whenever she called him impertinent.   
  
(Now... how to go about this...) he quizzed himself. A thought struck   
home; Nabiki would have been extremely jealous of the accompanying sly   
expression on his face had she seen it.   
  
Ranma stepped into the restaurant.   
  
"Welcome to Ne- Saotome! What the hell are you doing here?"   
  
"I've come for Shampoo, bird brain."   
  
The cloth he had been using to wipe the tables fell from limp hands.   
Mousse's jaw hang slack, his face twitching erratically.   
  
Mousse had never heard Ranma utter those words. Now the unspoken had   
been made heard.   
  
"You look really dumb Mousse, standing there with yer mouth open. No   
wonder she wants nothing to do with you."   
  
Limp fingers curled, and knuckles under teenaged Chinese skin popped.   
  
"Where is she anyway? I'm getting hungry..."   
  
Smouldering eyes narrowed dangerously behind thick lenses.   
  
"... and she's just right for eating."   
  
"DIE!!"   
  
==========   
  
Ranma grinned to himself. It couldn't have been more predictable if he   
had thrown a lit match onto gasoline.   
  
As Mousse yelled out the battle cry, Ranma made a standing leap   
backwards, onto the wall in front of the restaurant. With another   
leap, he bounded off onto the rooftops, with Mousse in hot pursuit.   
  
(Hmm... the ol' ghoul's cheking the dining area. Musta heard Mousse   
shout. Bet she didn't hear me egg him on though. Good. The last thing   
I need is her putting words in my mouth later.)   
  
Ranma leapt off another roof, the power behind the leap good to clear   
exactly three roofs and onto the fourth.   
  
"You're doing good speed today Mousse," he said quietly, more to   
himself.   
  
Mousse was eight roofs behind him. His heartbeat was two hundred and   
forty-one per minute, and his left hand twitched slightly as he ran.   
The veins in Mousse's head were throbbing, and he was grinding his   
teeth very hard.   
  
Ranma didn't need to look to find out. Looking was no longer   
necessary.   
  
(Let's fan the fire a little bit before we start.)   
  
The pigtailed boy turned around in mid-leap.   
  
"Yo Mousse!"   
  
The other boy only continued to charge forward with a snarl on his   
face.   
  
"Really nice of ya to come and help me look for Shampoo like this!"   
shouted Ranma.   
  
The young Saotome was rapidly approaching his next rooftop. He made no   
move to turn around, but extended his leg backwards. His foot found   
purchase on a tile, and his knee bent to absorb the impact. The leg   
straightened, and again Ranma was airborne for a four-roof leap.   
  
Mousse was too immersed in rage to notice that Ranma was running   
backwards across rooftops.   
  
"Finding her will be faster with both of us looking, right Mousse?"   
  
That his face twitched into a fiercer snarl and his closing the gap by   
a roof was the only indication that Mousse had heard Ranma.   
  
(Damn! I can feel him mad! Talk about a burning rage, he's hot enough   
to cook something!) Running backwards, Ranma was getting a full view   
of Mousse's anger. Deep hatred radiated from Mousse, accompanied with   
a constant strobe of dark, harmful intentions. Visible even to the   
naked eye, Mousse's rage shot flaming daggers to Ranma's hyper senses.   
  
(Need a good place to fight him. Hmm... let's see...)   
  
Ranma channeled more chi into his senses. A dull reaction with a tinge   
of solidity to the west brought a smile to his face. He corrected his   
course with another backward leap.   
  
"And when we find her you can go back home feather breath, 'cuz I'm   
gonna have some SERIOUS fun with Shampoo!"   
  
"ARRRGGHHH!!! I'll kill you! I'll kill you Saotome!"   
  
The young Saotome flipped in mid-air and landed at the edge of a   
construction site, deserted at the moment, as he knew it would be.   
  
"Sure, but wait after I get a few mouthfuls of her, will ya?"   
  
"DIE!!!"   
  
Ranma put on his best smirk, and said, "I don't think so."   
  
Mousse descended upon Ranma, arms raised above his head.   
  
"DIEEEE!!!"   
  
Mousse lashed his hands forward, and forty three weighted chains shot   
out of his robes.   
  
His opponent didn't move. Ranma was too startled to move.   
  
(I saw it!)   
  
Ranma stood there, gaping. One would think that he was paralysed in   
fear, but Ranma was in fact astounded by the sight and feel of energy,   
not to mention that odd rippling sensation he felt when the chains   
shot out.   
  
The chains were about to ensnare Ranma when the traces of Mousse's chi   
on the weights pricked sharply at his senses, breaking his trance.   
Instinctively he cartwheeled to the side, just in time as the chains   
passed through where he had been a split second ago.   
  
(Shit!!)   
  
With that, he took a giant leap and headed for the rooftops again.   
  
Mousse snarled in anger. His prey was running away during battle!   
"Coward! Come back here you womanising bastard!"   
  
Ranma merely shook his rear at Mousse in mid-leap.   
  
"Arrgghh!!"   
  
An enraged Mousse leapt after Ranma for another bout of aerial   
pursuit.   
  
==========   
  
Ranma's face held a frown. He was in deep thought, trying to decipher   
what it was he had witnessed during that brief moment the chains had   
shot out of Mousse's sleeves.   
  
(That burst of chi from him... it was intense! Intense? Fuck! It was   
like a hundred people in a drop of water! It's not possible!)   
  
No wonder the young Saotome bolted. Startling discoveries were best   
contemplated in motion. Especially if the source of the revelation was   
trying to inflict massive bodily harm, and even death onto the   
discoverer.   
  
(He shouldn't have that much chi! If he did he could crumple Ryouga   
like a soda can! And I kick his ass all the time! Is he playing with   
me or what?)   
  
Ranma was running across rooftops on autopilot, his hyper senses   
guiding him towards areas that were obstacle-free. He was making   
five-roof leaps, trying to buy more time as he thought.   
  
(With that much chi he should be dribblin' the ol' ghoul like a soccer   
ball! Not wiping tables! He could tear that moron Taro apart in any   
form!)   
  
He looked over his shoulder, more out of habit. Mousse was still there   
in hot pursuit.   
  
(Why would anyone that strong endure all the humiliation of being   
beaten by me? It's an honour to have yer ass kicked by the best   
martial artist around, not to mention the best looking, but...)   
  
He landed atop a stone wall and ran along the top, and leapt off at a   
corner.   
  
(He has the strength, but it's like he doesn't. It's li- Wait a   
minute! Does he convert all his chi to store all those weapons? But   
that's stupid! Trading off that much chi for a skill that gets you yer   
ass handed over on a platter each damn time is too fucking stupid!)   
  
A crow squaked as Ranma shot across its flight path. The boy had moved   
too fast for it to notice sooner; the poor bird died instantly from   
shock and fell to the ground.   
  
(Maybe he only knows how to use the chi to store the weapons. But   
that's lame! If you play with that much stuff you're bound to learn   
something new! Even those stupid toy robots those kids play with at   
the playground could be taught to do stuff! And they run on batteries   
for Kami-sama's sake!)   
  
Ranma's eyes suddenly shot to the size of saucers, a look of shock on   
his face. The expression was slowly replaced with a smile and a glint   
of glee in his eyes. 'I have a plan' might as well had been painted   
across his forehead in neon colours.   
  
(Now where should I...)   
  
He pumped some chi into his senses, and again received a dull   
reaction, this time a kilometer due north. On the next leap he   
corrected his course.   
  
He turned around in mid leap to face the chinese boy. "Mousse! I see   
her man! You can go home now! Me and her are gonna have a meal!   
Actually, I'm going to be the one eating!"   
  
Not surprisingly, Mousse didn't turn around and go home.   
  
==========   
  
Ranma stood in front of an abandoned warehouse, hands in his pockets,   
wearing his patented Oh-I-Am-Gonna-Kick-Yer-Ass-Like-Yer-A-Tellytubby   
smirk.   
  
Naturally Mousse blew his top when he saw the smirk. Who wouldn't?   
  
Then Ranma turned his back to Mousse, looked at the sky and started   
whistling.   
  
"Arrgghh!! Die you bastard!!"   
  
Eighteen shuriken, four spears, seventeen chains, five plumed darts   
and three yo-yos shot out of Mousse's sleeves in random order. Ranma   
dodged, ducked, bobbed and wove out of their way, all the while with   
his back towards Mousse.   
  
You didn't need to look when you had super senses, after all.   
  
The Chinese boy threw more and more weapons, including a few shower   
nozzles and roll of toilet paper. Ranma found it surprisingly easy   
pinpointing the location and type of each weapon. He had covered his   
exposed skin with an ultra-fine layer of chi. Considering the fact   
that he could differentiate colour by chi reaction alone, Ranma could   
practically 'see' the weapons as they reflected sunlight towards him.   
  
(I've got eyes on the back of my head! Wait till the ghoul sees this!)   
  
The dance continued. Still facing away from Mousse, Ranma was grinning   
like an idiot. With the release of each weapon he learned more and   
more.   
  
Just before a weapon was released, Mousse's level of chi would spike   
tremendously, although extremely muted and not readily recognizeable   
as chi. Ranma however, had flared his battle aura, although thinly and   
not readily visible. Mousse was well within his aura field, and each   
chi spike from Mousse pushed foreign ki, including Ranma's, away a   
millimeter or two.   
  
(Too easy!) He smirked.   
  
The muted chi also excited air molecules around Mousse in a very   
distinctive manner. The air around Mousse would change density very   
minutely, but it was enough to affect the speed and path of the   
surrounding light. Ranma - with his back to Mousse - saw it like it   
was the shimmering of air above burning desert sands; he seriously   
doubted that anyone else, including Cologne, could see it.   
  
Saotome Ranma was getting a multi-dimensional view of Mousse's prized   
technique.   
  
The chi would then rapidly drop; the weapon had been released from   
storage. The exit however, would cause a rippling effect in Mousse's   
natural unmuted chi, particularly around his arms.   
  
"Just below the elbows," Ranma muttered softly to himself. "Must be   
the exit points."   
  
Ranma suddenly backpedalled rapidly towards Mousse, avoiding all   
incoming projectiles as he did. Startled, Mousse quickly regained his   
composure and changed his stance, dropping his arms to his sides.   
Ranma sensed the spike of muted chi, and felt two medium sized objects   
materialize.   
  
(Chinese broadsword, shortened spear.)   
  
Indeed they were. Mousse caught the falling weapons by hilt and shaft;   
the spear stabbed upwards and missed as Ranma weaved behind the   
upraised arm. The Chinese boy jumped and twisted, slashing visciously.   
Unfortunately for him, Ranma had also jumped in the same direction,   
staying close and under attack range. Ranma lashed out and hit the   
base of his opponent's flexors; the sword dropped from numb fingers.   
He grabbed the limp wrist, and twisted the arm until it was pressed   
against Mousse's back. Now facing Mousse's back, Ranma could see his   
opponent bite back a shout of pain, drop the spear he was still   
holding, and rapidly cock his free arm, as if to elbow Ranma.   
  
(Let me have it duck boy!)   
  
Again the muted chi spike came, but this time Ranma was in physical   
contact with Mousse, and felt something he had not detected earlier.   
Ranma made a quick front kick, hitting Mousse just above a kidney,   
sending the Chinese boy sprawling into the dirt five meters away just   
as a wicked spear ripped through the sleeve, grazing empty air.   
  
Mousse quickly got to his feet and whirled around to face his   
opponent. A condescending smirk greeted him. He could only snarl in   
rage, and stood there assessing his foe, trying to strategise.   
  
(Mousse, Mousse, Mousse. I thought you were a real martial artist, but   
you're just as bad as that Copycat Ken faker.)   
  
Ranma had discovered another facet of Mousse's Hidden Weapons   
Technique. Eight very thin strips of wood, four on each side, running   
down the spine, just under the skin. Two strips more on each tricep   
just before the elbow. Each strip was heavily saturated with ki, but   
the ki - which definitely wasn't Mousse's - was dormant; the ones on   
his back kept the weapons away in folded space. The ones near the   
elbows acted as entry/exit points. Ranma suspected there were similar   
strips in Mousse's feet or legs.   
  
To release a weapon, Mousse would charge a combination of the strips   
with his own chi. The strips would react, and unfold the space storing   
the desired weapon. Also reacting to the chi, the exit points would   
synchronize with the unfolding space and disgorge the weapon.   
  
(Still, very impressive, Mousse. That's one hell of a way to use chi.   
Hmm...)   
  
Ranma however, still could not see how the chi was manipulated to   
achieve such a feat. Another experiment was due. He grinned.   
  
Mousse suddenly felt a shiver run down his spine. That grin. That   
accursed grin made him shiver. It was a bad omen if there ever was   
one.   
  
Unfortunately, his rage overshadowed his fear. Saotome was going to   
die. He lunged forward for a quick kill.   
  
Ranma was in a ready stance, waiting for just the right moment. Just   
as he sensed that Mousse was going to charge the strips, he shot out   
with all his speed and disappeared from view.   
  
To appear behind Mousse, and slammed the boy with an open palm strike   
right above a strip as it unfolded a weapon. Ranma sent a single   
Amaguriken-speed jab to the strips at an elbow just before it   
disgorged the weapon.   
  
The weapon finally materialized: it was a jagged broadsword. Grabbing   
it by the hilt, Mousse swung around, hoping to cleave and rent Ranma's   
flesh.   
  
Only to see a ball of ki right before his face.   
  
The last things Mousse remembered was a painful impact on his body,   
flying backwards through the air, and then, blackness.   
  
==========   
  
Ranma stood erect, tall and proud, a few meters away from the   
unconscious Mousse. He was smiling in triumph. Not over defeating   
Mousse; that was a given.   
  
He had finally completely uncovered the secret to Mousse's Hidden   
Weapons Technique.   
  
Whomever had designed the wooden strips embedded under Mousse's skin   
had Ranma's respect. To have designed such wonders was no mean feat.   
The wooden strips were self-recharging batteries, constantly drawing   
in ki from the surroundings. They functioned discreetly, and not only   
stored the ki, but also forced it to fold and weave in intricate and   
complex patterns. The patterns of the ki practically resonated with a   
volume of space, and slight alterations to the patterns - by means of   
the user's chi - literally bent said volume of space to the whims of   
the controller. Being simple devices, the strips in Mousse contained   
only two functions: bend space to store objects, and serve as entry   
points. Applying a certain amount of chi in the correct manner would   
result in temporary and selective halt in pattern effect; respective   
volumes of spaces would stop folding, and the object stored will be   
disgorged through the chosen exit point.   
  
Simply ingenious.   
  
(You're not as pathetic as I thought, Mousse. That takes a lot of   
skill.)   
  
Ranma now knew the concept. He knew what to do, and what the effect   
would be. Even the pattern that resonated with volumes of space was   
known to him. But he still had two problems.   
  
The first problem: he just didn't have the batteries.   
  
(Geez. Like I'm some kinda rabbit, needin' batteries and all,) he   
thought, a picture of a pink fluffy rabbit continuously beating a drum   
forming in his head. He looked at Mousse. (Hah! Some rabbit, feathered   
too!)   
  
The second problem was much harder than it sounded. How to actually   
fold chi into the patterns he wanted. He'd never done that before. The   
Mouko Takabisha used confidence as a proxy to create chi patterns. The   
same goes for the Soul of Ice, using calm of mind as a proxy to   
generate cold chi. Manipulating chi directly was just something he'd   
never done before, and the patterns for the Mouka Takabisha and Soul   
of Ice were nowhere near the space-folding pattern. He had no idea on   
how to start. He couldn't pull the details out of the strips within   
Mousse; they held only the final pattern, which he knew. What he   
needed was HOW to start and arrive at the final pattern.   
  
Ranma sighed. (This ain't over just yet.) He looked at Mousse. (Duck   
boy's gonna have questions when he wakes up. Might as well use the   
time to think of something to say to him.)   
  
With that, he sat on the ground, leaning on the wall opposite Mousse,   
and thought.   
  
==========   
  
Mousse awoke to acute pain. His head throbbed, and his chest, chin and   
cheeks felt battered. Which they were. He groaned, and tried to   
massage his temples, but found he couldn't. Something heavy was   
holding both his arms down. He opened his eyes and looked downwards,   
and found himself bound in chains.   
  
"Heyya Mousse. I thought you'd never wake up."   
  
"Saotome! Let me go so I can kill you!"   
  
"Aww c'mon Mousse. Chill out man, you'll burst an artery if you don't"   
  
"The only blood that will be spilled today will be yours, you   
womaniser! Now let me go!"   
  
"Why are you so pissed off Mousse?"   
  
The Chinese boy would've facefaulted if he could. "For even thinking   
of dishonoring Shampoo, I will give you untold pain! Let me go and let   
me kill you!"   
  
"You're still mad about that?"   
  
Mousse's eyes bugged out behind his thick lenses. "What the hell do   
you think you coward?! Let -"   
  
"you go so you can kill me and uphold Shampoo's honour. Geez, Mousse,   
I'm not like that Eyen-stain guy, scientific genius and all, but I'm   
not that dumb either. If you want me to let you go you're gonna calm   
down first."   
  
"Calm down? Calm down?! You want to desecrate Shampoo and you want me   
to calm down?"   
  
"Fer cryin' out loud, if I wanted to do that do you think I'd be here   
talking to you? Shampoo would be all over me before I finished asking   
he-"   
  
"Arrrgghh! You sick bastard! Let me go! I'll kill you! I'll kill you   
dead! Let me go now!!"   
  
(Whoops. Wrong thing to say. Heh.)   
  
The pigtailed boy did something he never did before: took a moment to   
choose his words. "Look Mousse, I didn't really mean it when I said   
that I wanted to have a go at Shampoo. I was just kiddin' man."   
  
"You're lying! Nobody can resist the beauty and grace of Shampoo!"   
  
"Oh fer Kami's sake..."   
  
"I see it now, Saotome! You lured me out here so that you can dispose   
of me! Then you plan to- to- NO!! Shampooo! Noo!! ..."   
  
Ranma slapped his forehead and sighed as Mousse continued to rant the   
products of his imagination. Looking up to the sky, Ranma thanked the   
powers that be that Mousse's imagination wasn't as warped as Kuno's.   
  
He closed the gap between them and bapped his fist on Mousse's head.   
  
"Shut up you moron! If I wanted to off you do you think you'd really   
be here talking to me right now?"   
  
"Ha! You just want to kill me slowly so you can recount your dirty   
deeds to Shampoo!"   
  
"What? How the hell did you come up with that you overgrown feather   
duster?"   
  
"Don't play dumb Saotome. You don't fool me! I know you-"   
  
"IF you know ME you'd know that if I WANTED you dead you'd be ALL over   
Tokyo by now or have you forgotten Saffron you moron?!"   
  
Silence. Mousse had indeed remembered Saffron. Much too clearly for   
his liking.   
  
A few minutes passed in silence, each boy with their own thoughts,   
collecting their respective breaths.   
  
Mousse turned to face Ranma. "Then why all this?"   
  
"Huh? This? Oh, this. Ermm.. I was bored really."   
  
Mousse could only gape. A few long moments passed. "What?"   
  
"C'mon man! Look around you! It's a beautiful day! You really want to   
spend it indoors doing what other people tell you to do?"   
  
The Chinese boy paused a moment, and glanced upwards towards the sky.   
His coke-bottle glasses were somehow still affixed to his face.   
  
"Don't tell me that you can't feel it's a good day today, Mousse. You   
might be nearly blind as a bat," Mousse grimaced at the Saotome's lack   
of subtlety "But I know you can feel it man."   
  
Mousse took a deep breath. There weren't any apparent alternative   
reasons to Ranma's actions. None that he could see, anyway. "I guess I   
can, Saotome."   
  
Ranma grinned.   
  
Mousse continued, "So you decided to drag me from my duties and beat   
me up huh?"   
  
"Err... now that you put it that way... what? Don't give me that look!   
It's not like you couldn't take what I dished out to ya or anything!   
You're a martial artist, remember? Anyway, what else was I supposed to   
do? Go hang out with the girls? Yeah, right! I'd spend my time kicking   
Ryouga's ass, but he was here a few days ago... he won't be back for   
at least three more weeks. I'd hang out with Hiro and Dai, but your   
place was closer."   
  
"Oh, how pleased I am to know that I was your first choice for   
companionship, Saotome."   
  
The young Saotome had the decency to look apologetic. He scratched the   
base of his pigtail, "Err.. heh heh."   
  
"Frankly Saotome, I'm surprised that a womaniser like you isn't up and   
about sinking your dirty claws into Shampoo when you have the time and   
chance to do it."   
  
Ranma gave Mousse a dirty look. "Me? Spend time with Shampoo?   
Willingly?"   
  
"And what the hell is wrong with my beautiful Shampoo you bastard?"   
  
"Hello? Anyone home? Can ya say 'Bombed Wedding'? Can you?" Ranma was   
looking right into the other boy's eyes, a frown creased into his   
brow.   
  
"Oh." He looked down, and back up at Ranma. "Does that mean you wanted   
to get married back then?"   
  
"Huh?" Ranma started to pale. That was a question he did not expect,   
and in all honesty, had no intention of touching with a five mile   
pole. "I... uh... I... that is... umm... what I mean to say... tsk..."   
  
"I'm listening, Saotome."   
  
Ranma threw his arms up in exasperation. "Argh! What I wanted has   
nothing to do with it! It's the principle of the thing! It's my life   
Mousse! How do you think I feel when the people I trust... err.. sorta   
trust... come barging in and demand that I do as they want? How do you   
feel when the ol' ghoul knocks you out so you can't go after Shampoo   
when you want to? Huh? How do you feel about THAT, Mousse?"   
  
Mousse started to say something, but halted, and closed his mouth. He   
shifted and leaned against the warehouse wall. Ranma reached out and   
undid the chains. The other boy slowly stood up, groaning as his   
injuries made themselves felt. He shook the chains off his person, and   
sat back down, leaning against the wall besides Ranma. Neither spoke.   
  
"So I take it that you're not interested in Shampoo for the moment,   
Saotome?"   
  
Ranma gave a snort. "Finally," he sighed. "I never have, Mousse. I   
wanted a friend, ya know. Not someone who latches onto me the moment   
she sees me."   
  
"Then why didn't you tell her that?"   
  
"Huh? You deaf as well as blind Mousse? How many times have I told her   
NOT to glomp me? That I ain't interested in her that way? How many   
times? I've lost count, man."   
  
Mousse turned to briefly look at Ranma. "So you say, Ranma. But you   
love the attention. Don't say that's not so, Saotome."   
  
"Huh? Whaddaya mean? I ain't like that!"   
  
"Really? Remember the reversal jewel?"   
  
"Reversal j-... Oh." Nabiki had filled him in on that little escapade.   
For a price, of course.   
  
A few minutes passed in silence.   
  
"You know, the old mummy is going to kick my butt when I get back."   
  
"Umm... sorry, man."   
  
"Nahh. You're right. It's a beautiful day. It'd be a nice walk back, I   
think."   
  
"Yeah. Say, if it helps any, just tell the ol' ghoul I clipped you   
clean with a Mouko Takabisha, and you were out of it a couple hours   
and couldn't find your way back."   
  
The Chinese boy looked at Ranma. "You been taking lessons from Nabiki,   
Saotome?" he said, smirking.   
  
"Actually Mousse, it _has_ been two hours. And we're about eight miles   
from Nerima."   
  
The other boy gaped. "Eight miles?"   
  
"I think so, anyway. Don't look so surprised Mousse. You did good   
speed today."   
  
Mousse snorted. "Sure didn't feel like eight miles when I was   
running."   
  
"Yeah, well..."   
  
"Yeah," said the Chinese boy. He got up and dusted his clothes. "I'd   
better get moving."   
  
Ranma also stood up. "Right. See ya Mousse."   
  
"Hope not, Saotome."   
  
"Whatever, Mousse."   
  
With that, they walked off in opposite directions.   
  
==========   
  
Ranma stopped, and turned around, just in time to see Mousse round a   
corner and disappear from sight.   
  
"I like the attention that much?"   
  
He paused, frowning for a few seconds, then started to walk again,   
this time in deep thought.   
  
==========   
  
"Damn Casanova," muttered Mousse.   
  
"He got me out of the Neko-hanten though. Haven't had time for myself   
for quite awhile."   
  
He continued walking, and encountered more and more people as he came   
into a busier part of the town. The morning still held its vibrance,   
and the simple act of walking among throngs of other people made   
Mousse feel so... alive.   
  
"Heh. The bastard may not be so bad after all."   
  
==========   
  
Kasumi put down the phone and returned to the living room, where   
Nodoka sat at the table, reading a magazine, and Akane watched an   
anime show.   
  
"That was Ranma. He won't be back for lunch, but he'll be back for   
dinner."   
  
"What?" Akane nearly shouted. She was scowling. "That- that- baka!   
He's off with his- his harem again! Ooohh! Wait till I get my hands on   
him!" She balled her fists, knuckles popping audibly.   
  
Nodoka passed a discreet look at Kasumi, her eyes glinting with...   
mischief? "Oh dear. Are you sure about that, Akane-chan?"   
  
"I'm positive aunty! He's either with th- that Chinese _floozy_, g-   
gobbling her ramen, or with that- crossdresser at Ucchan's!"   
  
"Which cross-"   
  
"The _female_ crossdresser!"   
  
"Ah."   
  
"Oh my. Ranma-kun is very naughty, ne?"   
  
"That doesn't even begin to describe him, oneechan, and you know it!"   
  
"Dear me. My son is so naughty. Where have I gone wrong?"   
  
"Don't blame yourself aunty. That baka just wants to be that way!"   
  
Nodoka let out a melodramatic sigh. "And so my errant son goes to   
flirt with other girls."   
  
"Not just any girls! F- floozies and crossdressers!"   
  
"Tsk. Remind me to have a few words with Ranma-kun later aunty. It's   
not proper for him to flirt with other girls."   
  
"You said it, oneechan!"   
  
"He should be here, spending time with you, just like you want, right,   
Akane-chan?"   
  
"You're right aunty. He should be- be-..."   
  
Akane found that she could not find any word to say. Her face was beet   
red, her mind reeling. Had she just said what she thought she did?   
  
Kasumi turned to Nodoka, who was smiling. She smiled in return; her   
imouto-chan was just too adorable sometimes. Still...   
  
She saw the smile on Nodoka's face lessen in favour of a concerned   
look as the older woman looked at Akane.   
  
(Aunty Saotome feels it too.)   
  
Kasumi shifted on her seat a little, and caught Nodoka's attention.   
The Saotome matriarch saw the look in the young girl's eyes, and   
nodded in understanding.   
  
She turned to Akane, who was studiously watching the tv, which was   
rolling credits for the anime show. "Akane dear. I'm sorry to have   
teased you like that."   
  
The youngest Tendo simply nodded, not taking her eyes off the tv.   
  
"I- we want you to know Akane, that you can come to either Kasumi or   
I, or both of us, if you want to talk about anything."   
  
Again, the nod.   
  
"Remember Akane. We're here for you. Talk to us. I know just how   
infuriating and dense male Saotomes can be. It would hurt to just keep   
it inside."   
  
Akane simply nodded again, now looking at her hands as she grabbed the   
hems of her skirt.   
  
"Please excuse us, Akane-chan. Kasumi and I would like to start on   
lunch," said Nodoka, as she stood up and left for the kitchen. Kasumi   
followed suit.   
  
"Oh, by the way, Akane-chan," Kasumi paused at the doorway. "Ranma   
isn't with Shampoo or Ukyou. He had a run-in with Mousse and somehow   
ended up in the next town. It's quite a trip, and it will take him   
some time to get home. Just so you know, imouto-chan," she said, and   
left.   
  
Akane found herself easing her grip on the hem of her skirt, and her   
posture straightening from her slight slouch, and smiling a small   
smile.   
  
(I'm an idiot.)   
  
Her deep blush remained though.   
  
==========   
  
Ranma walked aimlessly, questions hammering away in his mind.   
  
(Who made the strips? How did they make those strips? What kinda wood   
did they use?)   
  
(Why make strips that act like movable wardrobes? Why not make strips   
that can fire really powerful blasts?)   
  
(Why not just use the strips as pure batteries, and really enhance   
your own speed and strength? Even a short spurt of speed and strength   
could make all the difference in a battle.)   
  
(How did they even find that pattern?! It's amazing! How do _I_ make   
that pattern?)   
  
(What effects will other patterns have? Will it be easier once I know   
how to start a pattern?)   
  
(How the HELL do I start to make that pattern?)   
  
He sighed, and glanced around him. He was standing outside a small   
outdoor cafe.   
  
(Eh? Why the heck are those girls lookin' at me?)   
  
It was quite a sight, to see a boy with a chiselled physique get   
suddenly nervous as he stood stock still, trying to look nonchalant,   
and failing miserably.   
  
(Uhh... some of 'em are older than Kasumi...)   
  
He looked away from the young women sitting at a table, trying to be   
casual about it. Didn't work. It only made him look cuter. The   
attention grew, and he didn't need his hyper senses to feel the   
collective gazes on the back of his head.   
  
On his back. On his arms. On his-   
  
(Soul of Ice! Ice cool! Uhmm... be casual. Yeah, that's it!)   
  
He scratched the base of his pigtail.   
  
It didn't work.   
  
(Uhh... walk away, casually.)   
  
He took a step, another step, another, and kept on. It didn't feel   
natural to him though. To his audience, it seemed that he was giving   
them a show, just for them.   
  
They absolutely loved every second of it.   
  
A brunette made the mistake of saying out too loud, "If he were a few   
years older, there isn't anything on earth that could stop me from   
grabbing that butt and ..."   
  
Ranma didn't bother to hang around and hear anymore.   
  
"Awww. Now look what you did, Ayami. You scared him away!"   
  
Said girl could only pout, as did the others.   
  
==========   
  
Ranma finally slowed down his rapid walk.   
  
"Man, what the hell is wrong with chicks nowdays?" he muttered. "If   
they ain't violent, they have weird looks in their eyes. And if that   
ain't the case, they're some money grabbing ... whatever."   
  
He sighed.   
  
"Why can't more girls be like Kasumi?"   
  
No answer came, and he was glad that none did. It would really screw   
up his weird-o-meter if he somehow had gotten an answer out ot   
nowhere. He had had enough of that; Jusendo was still fresh in his   
mind.   
  
(Jusendo.) he thought, and his face grew sullen.   
  
(Damn! This ain't no way to spend my time!)   
  
He took a deep breath, then another, and his face visibly relaxed.   
(Might as well start workin' on that chi pattern.)   
  
Thus Ranma continued walking, oblivious to his surroundings.   
  
==========   
  
Chaos.   
  
A popular misconception was that Chaos equalled destruction. That   
particular equation was just that: a misconception. A supernova might   
seem very chaotic, as might a collision of galaxies. However, neither   
of these highly destructive phenomena could be attributed to Chaos.   
Not directly, anyway.   
  
Chaos affected sentient beings, mostly; if there were no such beings   
around to be directly affected, then the seeds of Chaos would be   
planted in a substance that most suited the seeds at that moment:   
whether in matter, or in anti-matter, or in the very fabric of space,   
or in that of time, or in the very core of existence itself. Thus   
sown, Chaos would germinate, its fruits being the stuff of dreams. Or   
nightmares.   
  
Another facet of Chaos was its ignorance towards the concepts of   
justice. Good and evil were not recognized; Chaos merely affected.   
Beings with sufficient intelligence called it Uncertainty, or   
Unpredictability, while some called it the Future. Others confused it   
with Fate, which was merely an end, with Chaos being the occasional   
means to that end.   
  
It was Kami-sama's way of ensuring that life - in any form, all   
throughout the universe - had a free hand. Through Chaos, no one   
being, no matter how powerful, had a monopoly over Existance; monopoly   
over Existance was the prerogative of the Creator, after all, and only   
the Creator. All of His creations bow to Chaos, whether they be gods,   
goddesses, angels, devils, demons, or humans. Even if His creations do   
not remember Him as being the Ultimate Power, they would always   
remember and know of Uncertainty, hanging somewhere, everywhere. Those   
who forget - or choose to forget - would be reminded in the worst   
possible manner.   
  
Chaos could manifest itself as free-will, as non-conformance, as   
courage in the face of everwhelming odds, as a single word from a   
stranger that altered one's life forever, as anything it wanted. It   
was the very epitome of versatility.   
  
In its pure form however, Chaos was energy. Not just any energy, but   
an Energy. An Energy was mostly sentient, though not completely; it   
would be prejudiced if it were. Not even the gods knew Chaos for what   
it truly was. Even to them, Chaos just was.   
  
Once in a while, Chaos would choose an avatar. The candidate would be   
chosen at random, not limited to its point of coming into existence.   
Being an avatar could last either for an instant, or a lifetime. There   
would be no ceremonies, no announcements; what would one expect an   
Energy to say? In fact, the avatars of Chaos themselves were not aware   
of being such. They always suspected something though, when their   
surroundings or they themselves fell prey to excessive peculiar   
circumstances. For example, an avatar might cause unreasonable   
revulsion and hatred just by being somewhere, doing nothing. An avatar   
of Chaos might bring the light of hope into those whom had given up   
unconditionally, or turn the tide of a losing battle, or rain untold   
destruction upon the guilty and innocent alike, without any warnings.   
  
An avatar of Chaos might have an idiotic father, trained in the   
Neko-ken, had at least three fiancees, hordes more of admirers (of   
both genders), throngs of enemies and rivals (also of both genders),   
knew in person at least two shrivelled trolls, was affected by a   
curse, and had fought on levels some minor gods had not seen before,   
among other things.   
  
Chaos had an avatar named Saotome Ranma. A very good avatar. Had it   
been able to, Chaos would have said that Saotome Ranma was its   
favourite.   
  
Poor Ranma.   
  
==========   
  
The young Saotome sighed. Life just wasn't fair. He had just cracked   
one of the most mind-boggling martial arts techniques of all times -   
the principles behind the technique were definitely awesome, even if   
the technique itself wasn't much - only to discover that the problem   
wasn't as cracked open as he had thought.   
  
He had tried to find a pattern as he walked. It had proven too   
difficult; there were too many distractions as he walked. Thus he   
pushed the thought process out of his conscious thoughts. There would   
be enough time later, he thought.   
  
The thought process, pushed out of Ranma's conscious thoughts, ended   
up in his subconscious. The subconscious is an amazing feature of   
humans. It reflected who a person really is, it stored all of his or   
her instinctive responses, as well as a person's strongest   
characteristics.   
  
Among Ranma's strongest characteristic was the inability to accept the   
loss of a challenge, formal or otherwise. Thus, his subconscious mind   
resumed the thought process, trying to find the elusive space-folding   
pattern.   
  
Ranma walked, taking in the scenery, oblivious to the fact that a   
minute amount of his chi was being woven and folded.   
  
His subconscious finally found a pattern that could sustain the   
initial weaves and folds without immediately unravelling the moment   
another weave or fold was introduced. Hence, his subconscious decision   
to experiment further with said initial pattern, hoping to arrive at   
the space-fold pattern.   
  
The initial pattern however, did not resonate with a volume of space,   
or anything pertaining directly to volumes of space.   
  
The pattern resonated with a single strand of pure Chaos.   
  
Poor, poor Ranma.   
  
==========   
  
"Emm, emm! This takoyaki is good!"   
  
The pigtailed boy popped another squid ball into his mouth. He was   
still walking aimlessly around, taking his sweet time. Ranma decided   
that he quite liked walking around the city, observing people and what   
people did.   
  
"Shoulda done this ages ago."   
  
He was walking down a slightly busy road that ran down a hill. The   
hill had once been the home of oaks, cedars, pines, not to mention   
various wild animals; now it was filled to the peak with houses,   
shops, and people.   
  
It was quite by accident that he looked off the hill into the   
distance.   
  
"Hey... isn't that..." he squinted his eyes. "Yes it is! Hmm.. might   
as well..."   
  
He quickly made his way off the hill, and made for the place he had   
spotted. Very soon, he came to the gates of a temple.   
  
Ranma paused momentarily. "Hey, I did say I'd say something nice to a   
priest." With that, crossed the threshold into the temple compound.   
  
Immediately he saw her. A breathtakingly beautiful woman, of   
devastating physical proportions, sitting on a rock, wearing peculiar   
robes that seemed to defy gravity. Her skin was wonderfully dark   
toned, a beautiful background for her lovely platinum blonde hair,   
which reflected the sunlight so. It was as if she had a halo, which   
made even her bored expression seem... breathtaking.   
  
The pigtailed boy was no stranger to beautiful females. Somehow   
though, this particular woman in front of him caught his attention, in   
a way he had never known. Her delicate features were relaxed, her age   
- or rather, maturity - shining through her poise.   
  
He approached her wordlessly, and at some point, lost to both of them,   
she became aware of his presence, and turned her attention upon him.   
  
The boy drew in a sharp, deep breath, as he took in the sight of her.   
She had lovely eyes, almond shaped, and they hinted at exuberance and   
mischief - though for the moment, both characteristic lay dormant. The   
blue diamond-shaped birthmarks at the corner each eyes only   
highlighted the green of her eyes, such that they shone like emeralds.   
Against his will, his eyes roamed downwards, taking in the sight of   
her exquisite mouth, her delightful neck, a beautiful, wonderfully   
heaving ample bosom, her perfectly shaped hips - hidden as they were   
under her robes, her lovely long legs, and even her perfect toes.   
  
She also inhaled sharply, and her eyes widened. As her heartbeat   
increased and her breathing deepened, her eyes roamed slowly over him,   
as did his on her, and she took careful notice of his slightly mussed   
hair, his smooth skin, the beautiful blue eyes, visibily soft, relaxed   
lips, his chest, wrought steel under red silk, and his exposed arms   
felt solid and strong even across the distance separating them. His   
grace was not lost upon her, even if he only stood still, as she sat   
unmoving.   
  
A spark had obviously ignited, somewhere.   
  
Was it a matter of physical reaction? Possibly, but both had been   
jaded by mere beauty alone. Could it be chemistry then? Also possible,   
but unlikely, since one was infused with Chi, while the other bathed   
in Mana.   
  
It was the strand of Chaos, pulsating from his subconscious, that   
snaked between them, and gently stroked the base of her existance,   
where Mana infused with her soul. The tendril of Energy writhed and   
danced, strumming the Mana just as it entered her soul, and a   
particular tug from the strand made her inhale even sharper, even   
deeper, even when all he did was sit and stare at her.   
  
He was also not spared, as the tendril snaked in and out of his chi;   
it was, at the moment, anchored in his subconscious, but the effect of   
the encouter would be felt, and remembered, by both his conscious and   
subconscious awareness. The tendril gently lashed at his chi at the   
same moment it tugged on her mana. She inhaled, and he visibly   
shuddered. The sight of the other's reaction made their respective   
hearts skip a few beats, and while she had the fortune of already   
being seated, he did not. He fell to his knees, still entranced in the   
very sight of her.   
  
"I-"   
  
Neither was sure who spoke.   
  
"I came here, looking for a priest. It- it seems that I have found a   
goddess."   
  
No reply came, for to both of them, the words somehow - though   
strangely - suited both of them.   
  
Both had found a deity.   
  
"I-"   
  
But it was not meant to be. Chaos had other designs.   
  
The tendril of Chaos elongated, and pushed the two apart. Not just   
yet, it would have said, had it been able to. He barely remembered   
standing up, and walking away, nor did she remember when he left. Each   
only saw the image of the other, permanently etched into their minds.   
  
==========   
  
"Urd?"   
  
Urd did not move, her eyes still fixed at the spot where the youth had   
been.   
  
"Oneechan?" Belldandy, goddess of the Present, waved a hand in front   
of Urd's eyes. Her older sister didn't respond at all.   
  
The youngest of the three sisters decided she had had enough. "Urd you   
old hag! Wake up!"   
  
The goddess of the past broke out of her trance with a visible   
shudder. Her eyes gained focus as she took in her surroundings. "Huh?"   
  
"Urd? Are you alright? You had us worried, oneesan."   
  
Skuld 'hmmph'ed, crossed her arms and looked away. "I wasn't worried."   
  
Urd didn't reply, but looked at Belldandy, and then at Skuld, mental   
gears nearly audible in her mental overdrive. She turned to Belldandy   
again, and opened her mouth to say something, when her eyes widened   
suddenly and she looked at where the pigtailed boy had stood earlier.   
  
"Where is he?!"   
  
"Where is who, Urd?"   
  
"The guy! The guy that was here! Where is he?"   
  
"Oneechan, there was nobody here when we found you."   
  
"What? Are you blind? He was just here! Belldandy you must have seen   
him!"   
  
"Urd..."   
  
Urd nearly shouted, but managed to keep her calm; it was Belldandy,   
after all. "He stood," Urd pointed to the spot "There! Right there!   
Just a few moments ago! Where is he?!"   
  
Belldandy could only look at Urd silently, not knowing how else to   
tell her beloved sister that she had been found alone, staring out   
into empty air.   
  
"Don't tell me you've finally grown senile, _big_ sister," said Skuld,   
poorly disguising her smirk and sarcastic tone.   
  
Her sister whipped around to face her, scowling deeply. Urd's voice   
dropped into a near-growl. "Now look here you- you- arghh! This is a   
waste of time! I'm going!"   
  
The eldest of the three Norns turned around and ran for the gate.   
  
"Urd! Wait!"   
  
A single foot already across the gate, Urd turned to look over her   
shoulder at Belldandy. "What?" she snapped, and caught herself,   
belatedly realizing the tone she had used on her guileless sister.   
  
"Don't be so rude to oneechan, you old hag! And Father wants you and   
me in his office!"   
  
Urd's face fell. "Huh? But I have to find-"   
  
"No buts! We were due five minutes ago!" Skuld was hopping mad.   
They were supposed to appear before Him together, and her sister was   
making her look tardy.   
  
"But-" Urd managed, looking out the gate. She had to find him! He had   
been there, and she _had_ seen him! She had HEARD him! He had somehow   
disappeared, and she just had to find him! She needed to! She didn't   
know why, but she knew she had to.   
  
Both the other sisters looked at Urd, noting the internal conflict   
dancing across Urd's features. Both were worried, but only one showed   
it.   
  
"Urd!" shouted Skuld, partly in anger, partly to snap her sister out   
of whatever was bothering her.   
  
The goddess in question hissed under her breath. She took a deep   
breath, then tore away from the gate and sprinted into the temple   
proper. The faster she faced her Father, the faster she could get back   
to Midgard.   
  
(And then I'm going to find him if it's the last thing I do!)   
  
Skuld looked at Belldandy, a puzzled look in her eyes, and then raced   
after her eldest sister.   
  
==========   
  
Saotome Ranma was in a very foul mood, and didn't particularly care   
who knew it. All of his delight over learning a new technique had been   
abandoned in favour of stewing quietly in anger as he walked.   
  
"Damn it!"   
  
Relatively quiet, anyway.   
  
Very rarely in his life had he been angry. He had learned a long time   
ago that anger served little purpose, that it spoke of lack of   
control. At the moment however, he let himself have the dubious   
pleasure of indulging in anger.   
  
He had spent three hours trying to find the temple again. Three long,   
frustrating hours. To find a temple amidst houses and shops. It should   
have been the easiest thing. Instead it had been futile.   
  
Ranma looked up into the sky; it would be dark soon. He continued   
walking back to the Tendo dojo.   
  
The boy was at a loss over what had happened at the temple. He sorely   
needed to know who the woman was. No female had ever made him feel   
that way. To make things worse, he wasn't exactly sure what "that way"   
really was. Was it physical attraction? Was it something deeper? Who   
was she?   
  
All he had were questions, and no answers. The cluelessness grated on   
his nerves, very much so. There had never been as great a mystery has   
the one he contemplated at the moment.   
  
He looked up, and saw that he was very near to the Tendo dojo. He   
sighed.   
  
Ranma started to resume walking, when he caught himself. He was going   
home with a very sullen expression. People would be curious, questions   
would be asked. He was not in the mood to answer questions, and most   
definitely not in the mood to explain to people why he was so upset   
over not being able to find a _girl_. Most probably he would be   
accused of finding another fiancee. No need to guess what would follow   
_that_ little exclamation.   
  
He realized that he had to let go of his anger; it was not a luxury he   
could indulge in beyond the moment. Thus, he took a deep breath, and   
reached for his Soul of Ice.   
  
==========   
  
Ranma stepped out of the changing room, having bathed and changed into   
fresh clothes. His run-about earlier had left him a little sore, and   
the soak in the furo had been heavenly. He languidly walked into the   
dining room, free from his ealier anger, not paying particular   
attention to anyone.   
  
He sat beside Akane at the table as Kasumi scooped the rice for   
everyone.   
  
(Mmm... that smells good! I wonder what mom and Kasumi cooked up   
today.)   
  
Being a male Saotome, Ranma let his nose do the pinpointing to the   
dish that was giving off the wonderful aroma. It was found in a   
second: a bowl of curry.   
  
(Curry?)   
  
He took the serving ladle, and scooped some of the gravy onto his   
rice, and popped some of the rice into his mouth.   
  
"MMMPH!"   
  
Everyone turned to look at him.   
  
"What's the matter, Ranma dear?" asked Nodoka.   
  
"This curry is great!" exclaimed the pigtailed boy. He quickly ladled   
more of the curry into his bowl and ate with his usual gusto.   
  
"You really think so, Ranma-kun?" asked Kasumi.   
  
"Uh huh," came the muffled reply.   
  
Nodoka paused from eating her own food. "Well then, it's official.   
Akane-chan's cooking has definitely improved."   
  
Ranma froze. He had been in the motion of shoving shoving more rice   
into his mouth. Shifting the bowl slightly, he looked at his mother   
with raised eyebrows.   
  
"Eh?"   
  
Nodoka merely smiled. "You heard me Ranma. Akane-chan cooked that   
curry."   
  
The boy shifted his eyes to look at Kasumi, eyebrows still raised.   
  
Kasumi nodded happily.   
  
The young Saotome finally lowered his bowl, and looked to his right   
where Akane sat. He was nearly blinded by the beaming look his fiancee   
gave him.   
  
He tried to find something to say. "Umm..." he managed. Giving it up,   
he just gave her a smile.   
  
Akane beamed even more and looked down, blushing.   
  
(Gawd! Akane cooked something this good? Gawd!)   
  
Ranma resumed his shovelling of rice and beef curry into his mouth,   
occasionally reaching for the stir-fried spinach.   
  
"Errm... Ranma." came a voice from his right?   
  
"Yeah, Akane?" he replied, not looking away from his rice.   
  
"Aren't you going to try the squid?"   
  
For the second time that evening Ranma froze.   
  
"S- squid?" he squeaked behind the bowl.   
  
"Uh huh. I made it too!"   
  
"Errmm..." Again, he peeked from behind his bowl, and looked at his   
mother. A claw of ice gripped his heart; his mother was intentionally   
avoiding his gaze.   
  
Ranma gulped, and eyed Kasumi. He nearly choked when he saw angelic   
Kasumi eating at near Saotome-Speed. She didn't take her attention off   
her bowl for a second. That was when Ranma realized that the dining   
room was awfully quiet.   
  
(Oh shit.)   
  
"Uhh... emm... that's okay... really. Umm... I'm doin' just great with   
the curry..."   
  
"Oh c'mon, Ranma," said the youngest Tendo.   
  
"Umm... err... I... I... hear squid doesn't go too well with beef!   
Curry beef! Yeah! That's it! And I've got curry all over my rice!"   
Ranma hurriedly ladled more curry into his bowl. "See? Wouldn't want   
to ruin the taste of the delicious curry now, right?"   
  
He proceeded to shovel more rice into his mouth when he heard a very   
soft "But I made it just for you."   
  
Ranma froze. Again. Hesitantly, he turned to look to his right, where   
Akane's hopeful gaze made him feel like he was kicking a puppy. A   
piggy he wouldn't mind, but a puppy...   
  
(Oh man!)   
  
"Heh." he offered her a weak smile. "Ermm... sure. Where is it?"   
  
"It's right there, dummy," replied Akane happily, all smiles. Ranma   
turned to look at the dish he had managed to miss earlier.   
  
(Oh my screwed up gods!) His eyes were the size of saucers. The squid   
did not look particularly inviting.   
  
He turned to Akane, smiling his weak smile. "Uhh... that?"   
  
"Uh huh!" she nodded cutely. He gulped. Why did she have to be cute   
NOW?   
  
(WHAT DO I DO???!!)   
  
Ranma's brain instantly went into overdrive. Neurons and synapses that   
had lain dormant since Jusendo were suddenly overworked. Not one grey   
cell was left out. The heat from the computations were such that Ranma   
started sweating.   
  
Then again, Ranma had another reason for sweating.   
  
Saotome Ranma found himself seriously in a quandary. On one hand,   
there Akane sat, with an expectant look. She was beaming a smile, a   
happy smile that Ranma had decided been worth the life of a phoenix   
god.   
  
On the other hand...   
  
(I'm too young to die!)   
  
His chopsticks moved forward, very very slowly. Ranma racked and   
racked his brain every single millimeter his hand moved. Every trick   
he   
had, every deception from the very substantial Saotome Library was   
pulled out of his memory. None proved sufficient.   
  
Nodoka muttered a soft prayer for her beloved son. Tendo was on the   
verge of tears; he was about to lose his future son-in-law. Genma was   
just thankful it wasn't him. Kasumi ate and ate and ate.   
  
Just as Ranma's expression resembled that of a prisoner on death   
row, a glint entered his eyes, and his frown turned into a smile.   
His slouching shoulders straightened, and he put both his chopsticks   
and rice bowl on the table. Everybody was now looking at him.   
  
Ranma gripped the serving dish with both hands, and lifted it towards   
his face. He paused when the dish was at chest level, and he looked   
around. Nobody was breathing.   
  
In one smooth motion, he lifted the dish to his mouth and threw his   
head back, and swallowed everything - minus the serving dish of course   
- in one, big gulp.   
  
Jaws could be heard dropping onto the table.   
  
He returned the dish to the table, and wiped the corner of his mouth   
with the back of his hand. Silence pervaded the dining room.   
  
Ranma returned his attention to his curried rice.   
  
Akane was the first to shake off the shock. She definitely didn't   
expect for him to do THAT. "H- how was it, Ranma?"   
  
"Umm? It... it was okay. Though next time, errm.. be... be careful   
with... with the... salt! Yeah! That's it! It was okay, but just a   
biiiiit too salty. Taste it for salt next time, kay? Keep it up."   
  
With that, he continued eating, as the rest of the family slowly   
gathered their wits, and Akane beamed.   
  
Nobody noticed Ranma fighting to suppress a grimace.   
  
==========   
  
The evening air was crisp as Ranma made rushed away from the Tendo   
dojo. He had offered "I'll be back soon, kay!" immediately after   
dinner and left before anyone, namely Akane, could say anything.   
  
Saying that Ranma was in a hurry was an understatement. Time spent or   
saved made the difference between life and death. His life. His death.   
  
He had used Mousse's Hidden Weapons Technique.   
  
Ranma had cracked the pattern back at the dinner table. The famed   
Saotome analysis skill had come through at the very last moment.   
  
Ranma had used his raw chi, and folded Akane's squid away into a   
volume of space, pretending that he had swallowed it. The chemically   
imbalanced - horribly so - concoction was currently in direct contact   
with his chi. Sickening hardly began to describe the feeling.   
  
(Shit! Hafta hurry!)   
  
Hurry he did. He ran past the neighbouring houses, and finally made it   
to the road by the canal. There was no one else around at the moment.   
  
(Not too f-) "Ackkhh!"   
  
A sharp pain had shot throughout his entire body. He pitched forward,   
and fought to stand up.   
  
"Hsssssskkkkk!!" he hissed, biting back the shout of pain he had been   
so tempted to release. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to   
attract attention.   
  
"Urrgg..." He couldn't stand it anymore, and fell to his knees. He   
fought to gather his breath, and shuffled on his knees towards the   
fence by the canal. Shakily, he lifted his hand and grabbed the   
fence, and tried to get up.   
  
Just as he pulled himself up, a great surge of pain coursed throughout   
his body. The pain was so great that he couldn't even cry out, and   
somehow, despite the fence, he toppled over and fell into the canal.   
  
As he fell, Ranma thought of how he had gotten into this mess.   
  
(Damn hyper senses...)   
  
(Should be up there with Pop's Kijin Raishu Dan...)   
  
(Sealed...)   
  
(Should have a demonic name too...)   
  
(Saotome School of Indiscriminate Grappling...)   
  
(The Thousand Fist Sky...)   
  
(Eyes of the Demon God...)   
  
The last thing that crossed his mind was the image of the woman from   
the temple.   
  
Ranma lost consciousness, and disappeared under the water.   
  
==========   
  
To be continued...   
  
Author's notes:   
  
There! Finally finished it! It's not as good as I wanted it, but hey,   
this is only the second chapter of my first ever fic. I'll do better   
next time! I hope so, anyway... =)   
  
So Ranma finally has his own school of martial arts. Just one   
technique, sure, but it still counts. Genma has the Yama Sen Ken and   
the Umi Sen Ken, so Ranma gets The Thousand Fist Sky. I don't have the   
Japanese translation just yet for 'The Thousand Fist Sky' or 'Eyes of   
the Demon God', but I claim dibs on them anyway. I'm gonna try and get   
them translated ASAP. Still, you have to wonder... just what good   
would it be now that Ranma is fish food? Hmm...   
  
I wanted to make it longer, but the whole thing kinda gave me a   
headache, ya know. (Read: I was lazy, so I ended the story at a gentle   
spot.)   
  
You guys aren't mad right? ^_^   
  
To Kasumi lovers, sorry that I made her eat at Near Saotome Speed. I   
couldn't resist it.. :Þ   
  
A _HUGE_ Thank You to Nathan Shuker, Martin Siu, Ranma Saotome and   
Magus aka Viper508. They're my pre-readers. You should thank them too.   
Without them this fic would suck even worse.   
  
Also a big big Thank You to all those who took the trouble to vote for   
'When Bakas Learn - Prologue' at the 'Best of Ranma ½ Fanfiction   
Awards.' It won first place for the month of August 2001 for the   
Mini-Series category! Thank you thank you thank you!   
  
By the way, no hurries for the next chapter, right?   
  
Copyright © October 2001 by bluefurball


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimers and Author Rants apply. Please read Foot Notes.  
  
When Bakas Learn   
by bluefurball  
  
Chapter 2   
==========  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
Even more silence.  
  
"Where is everybody?"  
  
The silence was getting really annoying.  
  
"Why is it so dark here?"  
  
As if in answer, a faint blue glow appeared.  
  
"Huh? Wha-?"  
  
A very curious-looking construct materialized, and it hung in mid-air.   
That, at best, was a poor description; there was no air to speak of,   
nor was there any point of reference for the construct to float above,   
under, inside, or out of.  
  
It was merely there.  
  
What 'it' was also begged an explanation. It was like someone had   
woven a mat out of thin strips of soft blue light, and then used the   
mat as paper for an elaborate origami sculpture. Each strip of light   
was probably polarised, considering that it was darker wherever two   
or more strips overlapped each other.  
  
The outline of the structure was a perfect sphere, but the structure   
itself resembled a sea-urchin, bristling with soft blue thorns. It   
was semi-opaque, and one could see that it was hollow, the way an   
origami model should be. The similarity ended there, however, for it   
was plain to see that the folds inside the conical thorns and body of   
the structure were stretched this way and that, undulating   
ceaselessly. Where the folds were stretched, slight gaps could be seen   
between the blue strips, and no two folds would be stretched the same   
amount. Even the shading of each strip would differ, depending on its   
density and how many other strips it obstructed the viewer from   
seeing.   
  
Everything was unique, each had a different purpose, the sum of which   
was the ethereal construct.  
  
"...What is this?"  
  
No answer came.  
  
"What does it do?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Damnit! Someone answer me!"  
  
Annoyance gave way to budding anger, fuelled by confusion. A shout of   
frustration should ease the anger somewhat, and quell any and all   
worries. It should also crush any fear, but that was moot, since Manly   
Martial Artists do not feel any fear.  
  
A good strong shout was needed, but none came. The appearance of a   
second construct prevented anything more than slack-jawed staring,   
coupled with mental gaping. While the first construct was beautiful   
and enchanting, the second was awesome.  
  
The newcomer appeared next to the first, dwarfing it by at least a   
factor of ten. It looked like a giant golf ball, pocked with small   
bumps instead of dimples. They were thorny bumps, for each of them   
were indeed a replica of the first construct, gathered into the   
outline of a sphere and cut across their equator by a giant   
translucent bubble. The bubble was of the same blue mat and was   
hollow, just like the first construct. However, where in the first   
construct the hollow chamber housed folds of the model, the huge   
chamber of the second was filled with helixes that were tightly   
wound, bridging two thorny bumps, each on the opposite side of the   
sphere. All the helixes passed through the center, and the point of   
convergence looked solid, shining like a neon bulb.  
  
Awesome.  
  
Despite the complexity of the constructs, the subconscious somehow had   
no doubt that each of them was the product of just one giant mat, each   
skillfully folded and contorted beyond belief.  
  
"One big origami..."  
  
Again, as if in answer, something happened.   
  
The first construct began unravelling. It split at its equator, and   
from there unravelled the folds, then the thorns, until there was only   
the mat of soft blue light.  
  
Not to be outdone, the second construct also began to unravel. The   
helixes unwound, and the giant bubble flattened out into a bumpy mat.   
That unravelled even more, ridding itself of the thorny bumps, finally   
coming to rest as one giant mat, so alluringly blue.  
  
"Kami-sama..."  
  
There was no helping it. The light show was too spectacular to remain   
aloof and detached.  
  
The light show was also not over. The giant mat started to fold by   
itself, this way and that, very gracefully, until it morphed into its   
final form. The remaining mat followed suit, and performed its own   
dance, folding, contorting, until it reached its final form.  
  
"What is this? What does all of this mean? _What_?"  
  
While the feelings of awe and astoundment remained, a new one arose.   
  
Familiarity.  
  
Both the constructs seemed familiar, especially the first one. A   
mystery: how could something so strange be so familiar? There must be   
an explanation... but what? There must be-  
  
"ARRGH!"  
  
Pain? It couldn't be. It felt like it came from the first construct.   
_From_ it? That didn't make any sense. There shouldn-  
  
"ARR-"  
  
****  
  
"-RRGHH!!"  
  
Saotome Ranma screamed. It felt like someone was pushing red hot   
pokers into his skin. He had come out of unconsciousness many times   
before, but never like this. He was used to seeing only blackness,   
then gradually regaining his senses.   
  
This time pain flooded his every nerve, and kicked his senses from   
zero to overdrive in half a second.  
  
"What's wrong with me?"  
  
He was panting hard. Sweat ran down his face in heavy trickles. Ranma   
tried to get his bearings when another jolt of pain kneed him in the   
gut. The jolt sent him clutching his sides, curled like a foetus on   
the ground.  
  
"Unngghh..."   
  
Ranma did what he could to bite back a scream. Screaming was not   
manly. It also spoke of a lack of control, and he needed all the   
control he had to figure out what was happening to him. Still curled   
on his side, he forced himself to breath evenly, when he felt the   
slight twinge in his abdomen.  
  
Another jolt was coming.  
  
(Shitshitshit! What the hell is going on?! That damn Ryouga doesn't   
hit this hard! This feels like... like...)  
  
His eyes shot open as realization took him, then he shut them again,   
this time in evident concentration and effort. A shudder passed   
through him, a warning of the incoming seizure.  
  
Ranma disengaged the First Construct.  
  
All of a sudden a small portal appeared in thin air, and a pile of...   
something fell through. The portal disappeared as quickly as it had   
appeared.  
  
Immediately a great sense of relief washed over Ranma as the pain   
disappeared. He took a few deep breaths, and opened a single eye to   
see what it was that had caused him so much pain.  
  
It was Akane's squid.  
  
Ranma sighed. (Stupid Tomboy. Nearly killed me for real...) He then   
snickered weakly. (Stupid me. Can't believe I forgot that I folded her   
squid. That must've been some fall...)  
  
(Fall?)  
  
He had fallen into the canal. But the ground under him was only   
slightly damp, and he was still male. Not the standard outcome of   
falling into the canal. Confused, he slowly got up and looked around.   
There was nothing to be seen, except the wall of water.  
  
*Thump*  
  
Ranma could only gape as he sat where he fell on his rear. He was   
indeed in the canal. He was, however, not in the water.  
  
He was in the center of a perfect circle, about two meters in radius.   
As he stood up, he saw that he was in the canal, and as the water   
reached the invisible boundary, the water... went elsewhere. There was   
no other way to describe it, since the water did not flow around the   
invisible barrier. The water was chest level - it must be raining   
heavily upstream - and he could see the water _disappear_ as it hit   
the barrier, from the surface to the canal bed.  
  
Turning around, he saw that the water on the other side of the barrier   
flowed smoothly, as if there had been nothing to impede it.  
  
"What the hell..." he muttered. He had never come across anything like   
this. Maybe if he studied the barrier closer. Ranma took slow steps   
towards the invisible boundary.  
  
He stopped after seven steps. There was no way he could reach the   
barrier. It moved as he did. It stopped as he did.  
  
(I'm the cause of this?)  
  
As he stood and pondered the matter, a movement at the corner of his   
eyes caught his attention. Turning, he saw that it was a red plastic   
bag, empty and floating on the surface of the water.  
  
It was heading straight for him. Straight for the unseen barrier.  
  
Ranma stood there, very still, not taking his eyes off the piece of   
trash as it came closer. He would not blink; he knew something was   
going to happen when the bag reached the barrier, and he wanted to see   
what it was.  
  
The bag came closer.  
  
Closer.  
  
Just a foot away from the barrier now...  
  
Three inches...  
  
One...  
  
Right before his very eyes, the piece of trash shrunk, and then   
disappeared entirely.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Shrunk? Disappeared? It didn't make any sense. Nothing that evening   
had made sense.  
  
Ranma started to scratch the base of his pigtail, wondering about what   
just happened, when instinct made him turn around.  
  
The same plastic bag continued to float away from the edge of the   
barrier, on the opposite side from where it had disappeared, still in   
the same shape as it had been earlier.  
  
(H- how? Where...)  
  
He shook his head. Nothing was making any sense.  
  
With that, he jumped out of the canal, and onto the road besides it.   
He started to make his way back to the dojo, too confused to realise   
that that was the first time that he had fallen into the canal and   
remained male.  
  
Suddenly he froze in mid-step. "Wait a minute!"  
  
(If that first blue thing caused the hidden weapon move, then   
maybe...)  
  
Ranma closed his eyes, and after a moment felt what he was looking   
for. A sudden focus crossed his expression, and a moment later he felt   
as if someone had pulled away layers of uncomfortably hot blankets.  
  
(Ahh... much better. What the heck was- was...)  
  
Ranma suddenly felt very tired, and his eyes wouldn't stay open.  
  
(...was...)  
  
He keeled, and everything went black.  
  
Again.  
  
**********  
  
Darkness.  
  
Light.  
  
A familiar ceiling.  
  
"Damn. Who the hell shoved their lifetime supply of being knocked out   
onto me?" Ranma sighed.  
  
Of course, coming from someone who was coming out of unconsciousness,   
it sounded more like "dmooshvdrpplynokontmehuuuuuh".  
  
He waited for a few minutes, allowing his view to focus properly.  
  
"Heh. Toufuu's place. I could recognize that ceiling with a blindfold   
on now," he muttered to himself. He paused, gathered his breath, and   
started to move into a sitting position.  
  
"No, no, no, there will be none of that for you," he heard a gentle   
voice, accompanying soft footsteps that seemingly appeared out of   
nowhere. Ranma felt a hand on his chest, gently pushing him back down.  
  
"Oh, hiya Doc."  
  
"Hello yourself, Ranma. Glad that you've decided to wake up and join   
the world again." Ranma was looking up at the ceiling, too tired to   
look around, but he could hear the smile in Toufuu's voice.  
  
"Yeah, well, it wasn't much of a nap. I don't think I wanted it in the   
first place."  
  
"Nap?" the smile in the voice turned into concern. "Being unconscious   
for three days qualifies more as a coma then a 'nap', Ranma-kun."  
  
Ranma whirled his head to look at Toufuu "What!? Three-"  
  
"Ah! Please don't do that Ranma. Your motor function is just coming   
back. It wouldn't do to shock them."  
  
The pigtailed boy eased his tensed muscles and exhaled loudly.  
  
"Yes Ranma. Three days. It's Tuesday evening now."  
  
"Crap."  
  
"That quite summed up my response when Fuumei-san and her son brought   
you in."  
  
"Who-"  
  
"My regulars, though not as regular as you."  
  
"Oh. Heh."  
  
"I'm going to get you something to eat, then you're going to rest.   
When you have enough energy, by that I mean when _I_ decide that   
you're strong enough," Ranma smiled weakly at that, " you're going to   
tell me what you were doing that almost exhausted your chi supply   
completely."  
  
**********   
-The Next Day-  
  
Ranma finished the last of his late breakfast, and sat back, patting   
his tummy. It was just after ten o'clock, the wall clock told him. He   
was feeling a lot better than the night before, and the color of his   
face showed it.  
  
Toufuu came in, bearing a clipboard.  
  
"Finished with your patient, Doc?"  
  
The young doctor nodded. "Yes. My next appointment is at eleven   
thirty. That gives us some time for a little discussion, don't you   
think?"  
  
Ranma grinned. "That means I'm strong enough?"  
  
Toufuu smiled back. "Only to talk, mind you."  
  
"Just between you and me doc, I don't really feel like doing anything   
else."  
  
The older man nodded in understanding. "That's why I haven't told   
anyone you've come out of your coma."  
  
Ranma let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thanks Doc. I prefer not   
to have a circus shoved into my face right now."  
  
"Now, now Ranma. Your family is just concerned, so are your friends.   
At least the female half is."  
  
"Mom and the Tendos are alright, but the rest are just gonna be a   
pain."  
  
The doctor merely nodded. "Akane stayed by your bed. She said that it   
was her fault."  
  
"Huh? She did?"  
  
Toufuu nodded again. "I sent her back though, after you stabilized on   
Monday."  
  
Ranma remained quiet.  
  
"Was it her fault, Ranma?"  
  
"Huh? Oh. Uhh... partly. The squid was standard Akane. It got real bad   
because I folded it."  
  
"Excuse me Ranma, did you say folded?"  
  
"Uhh... I'm not really sure how to describe it right now. I used   
Mousse's Hidden Weapons technique when I pretended to eat the squid.   
Heh. Next time I'll just eat the damn thing."  
  
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Mousse's technique, Ranma? He taught   
you?"  
  
The pigtailed boy grinned. "You remember me asking you how to learn   
martial arts moves without asking?"  
  
Toufuu's face lit up. "Of course I do! You've mastered it?!"  
  
Ranma's face was of absolute pride. "Musabetsu Kakuto, Saotome Ryu,   
Ten Sen Ken, Kijin Shikaku."  
  
"Kijin Shikaku? Demon God Eyesight?"  
  
"Friendly kami wouldn't leave me sleeping for three days, I think."  
  
"Maybe not. Congratulations, Ranma," said Toufuu, as he reached and   
gently clapped Ranma's shoulder. "To be honest, I didn't think you'd   
learn it this fast. Or at all. Don't take it the wrong way, but your   
Kijin Shikaku is pretty much the Holy Grail of martial arts, Ranma. If   
I had to bet on anyone mastering the move, I'd bet on you. But   
still... it hasn't even been two weeks since you asked me about it."  
  
The young Saotome had a look of friendly smugness. "Well, when you're   
the best..."  
  
Toufuu smiled at his young patient. "No arguments from me," he said.  
  
"Here's how you do it Doc. First you gotta-"  
  
"Hold it, Ranma," Toufuu halted him. "I don't want to know."  
  
"HUH? But Doc, if it weren't for y-"  
  
The doctor finally silenced Ranma with another gesture. Toufuu could   
only smile at Ranma's confused look.  
  
"I know I said it's the Holy Grail of martial arts. Mastering the move   
will open up many great opportunities for you. But it's not for me."  
  
Seeing Ranma getting more confused, Toufuu continued.  
  
"You're not the only one with an interesting childhood Ranma. Come to   
think of it, I was a bit like you. My father trained me since I was   
very young."  
  
"Musta been. You're good at the Art, Doc."  
  
Offering a smile and a nod, Toufuu continued "It's just that I've   
learned that if you live for the Art, the Art will come to you. If you   
live for the challenge, the challenge will come to you."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Living for the Art, and for the challenge, will make you very   
skillful. However, there is a price."  
  
"Uhh... what price?"  
  
"I don't know Ranma... maybe Jusenkyou curses, multiple fiancees,   
rivals, monsters, ghosts. Sound familiar?"  
  
"You're saying..."  
  
"Do you think you'd be as good as you are today if you didn't have all   
the excitement thrown at you?"  
  
"Uhh.. yes?"  
  
The doctor grinned. "I'm not questioning your ability Ranma. I'm just   
saying you're as good as you are because of continuing challenges. You   
live for the Art, and for the challenge. And so the Art comes to you,   
as do the challenges. The better and more skilled you are, the bigger   
and tougher the challenges."  
  
"Ahh... You don't like the challenges, Doc?"  
  
"I used to revel in them. Now I want a normal life Ranma. There came a   
point for me that the excitement was too much."  
  
"What happened? The clinic collapsed too much?"  
  
Toufuu chuckled. "Nothing like that, but close."  
  
"I wanna show you I'm grateful, ya know Doc? I mean, if it weren't for   
you, I wouldn't even have learned it."  
  
Pushing up his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Toufuu said "The   
only thanks I need from you Ranma, is that you succeed, and that you   
put your knowledge to good use."  
  
"If Nabiki said that, Kasumi would call the hospital to have her   
checked up in a snap," said Ranma, grinning while snapping his   
fingers.  
  
"K- Ka- Ka- Ka-"  
  
Ranma paled. "Oh shit." Toufuu's glasses started to fog over.   
  
"DOC! FIRE! THE CLINIC'S ON FIRE!"  
  
"Huh? Fire? Where, Ranma-kun?" asked the doctor, his glasses clearing.  
  
"Nowhere Doc," gasped Ranma, one hand clenched over his heart.   
  
"Anyway, as I was saying Ranma, thank you for offering to teach me   
your technique. But, I have to decline. I like my quiet, normal life."  
  
"Oh. Umm, kay. You tell me if you change your mind, kay Doc?"  
  
"I will, Ranma."  
  
There was a few moments of companiable silence, which Ranma passed by   
regulating his breathing in an attempt to speed up his healing. Toufuu   
was in deep thought.  
  
"Ranma."  
  
"Yeah, Doc?"  
  
"You very nearly died. Nearly all your chi was spent. Did Mousse's   
technique really take up that much energy?"  
  
"Hmm... naah. Not really, Doc. The only trouble the technique gave me   
was giving the squid direct contact with my chi. But after I undid   
that first blue thing, I-"  
  
"Wait a second. Blue thing? Ranma, I think you better tell me   
everything that happened. Don't leave out anything."  
  
**********  
  
Toufuu sat, leaning against the countertop. He gently massaged both   
his temples with both his hands, lost in thought.  
  
Delivered to his doorstep, nearly dead.  
  
Recuperating a week faster than he had anticipated, even with his   
experience treating the boy.  
  
Revealing that he had mastered the Holy Grail of the Art. Not giving   
much thought to having mastered something other people have died   
trying to learn, but instead enthused about having stolen a rival's   
prized technique, which in comparison pales to said Holy Grail of the   
Art.  
  
Had seen in crisp detail what he believed had to have been a chi   
pattern/structure. Two chi patterns/structures. Nobody had ever   
recorded such a feat.  
  
Discovered in person -- even if by accident -- a mind-boggling martial   
arts technique, something akin to one that he had read about only   
once, in the translation of a translation _of_ a translation of a   
secret text that had predated Japan herself.  
  
Defied death by drowning, by virtue of said mind-boggling technique.   
Ironically, the technique itself nearly did him in.  
  
It was like a bizarre resumé.  
  
As experienced and open minded as Toufuu was, he was getting a slight   
headache. At the moment he was contemplating the accidental discovery   
of a superb technique.  
  
Accidents happen all the time, he knew that much. Accidents are as   
much the mother of Invention as Necessity, if not more. But this...  
  
The very magnitude of the 'accident' wanted to make him reach out for   
some aspirin.  
  
****  
  
Chaos.  
  
It would have smiled at Toufuu, if it could.  
  
Had it been able to, it would have said smugly, "What did you expect?   
It did not matter if his time had come or not, I'm still not done with   
him. Yes, I saved him. The boy has a lot to do still. He is my avatar,   
after all."  
  
"He's my very best."  
  
"He will be your greatest."  
  
Had Chaos been able to, that was.  
  
****  
  
Saotome Ranma sat on his bed, thinking about what Toufuu had told him.   
The doctor had returned to attending his other patients.  
  
(Man! This is great!)  
  
He was also grinning.  
  
(A new move!)  
  
Discovered by accident.  
  
(So??)  
  
This was exactly what he had in mind when he dreamed of the Kijin   
Shikaku, all those long days more than a week ago. Just goes to show   
how warped some peoples sense of time is.  
  
(I can go thru stuff! Wait... or is that have stuff go through me?   
Uhh... who cares?! A new move!)  
  
His joy was barely contained. As it was he looked ready to do a   
victory dance even with his condition.Had anyone walked into the room   
just then and seen him, chances are they would have gotten very   
nervous indeed. Ranma was rubbing his hands in glee, with a grinning   
face that promised mischief and havoc to Nerima.  
  
The young Saotome was looking forward to having some fun with some key   
figures in the ward.  
  
(Ryouga's gonna pop a vein! Vein? He's gonna go on a rampage!) Image   
of a steaming Ryouga attacking him for having dared to come up with   
such a cool move appeared. (Man he's gonna go nuts!)  
  
(Ohh yeah! The ghoul can't do her shiatsu on me no more! Heh heh heh.   
A super cool move that the Amazons don't have. Wonder what she'll do.   
Probably demand that I show it to her. Hah! As if I'm gonna do that!)   
A picture of him gloating in front of an impotently furious Cologne   
popped into his head. (She'll probably have Shampoo try harder ta get   
me into the tribe...)  
  
Ranma's face lost a bit of glee and enthusiasm.  
  
(Shampoo equals Mousse.)  
  
(If Shampoo comes, so will Ucch- Ukyou.)  
  
The smile lessened.  
  
(The tomboy's gonna get jealous again. Heh.)  
  
(Nabiki...)  
  
His face was in a frown by then.  
  
(Kami knows who she'd tell. Money grabbin...) Ranma's thought   
degenerated into a few choice curses.  
  
(Definitely the Kunos. Kodachi's gonna go nuts when she sees Shampoo   
and Ucch- Ukyou there, and Kuno will think I'm a damned sorceror for   
real.)  
  
The frown continued, then turned into a smirk.  
  
(Heh. Let them come. Saotome Ranma's gonna seriously kick some ass!   
Yeah!)  
  
Another image came into his mind, this time of him standing in an   
Oh-So-Cool pose, unscathed as neither rivals nor admirers could touch   
him. A second image popped up, with him standing victorious and   
laughing before a background of streamers, confetti, orchestras and   
victory banners carried by chirping birds, as his bruised rivals   
weakly beat the ground, crying in abject failure. Ukyou, Shampoo and   
Kodachi crying at the side for failing to even touch him, with Akane   
in the dojo working steam off because she couldn't mallet him anymore.  
  
Ranma could nearly taste the sweetness of the moment, and his mirth   
showed it. (Heh heh heh. I am so gonna kick their asses! Not that I   
don't beat up those three everytime...)  
  
(Those idiots will try their best though... heh. Man, the house's   
gonna be a mess. And they still can't beat m-...)  
  
His expression suddenly changed, from gleeful to a slight frown.  
  
Scenes from the aftermath of the wedding attempt flashed through his   
mind's eye. He recalled vividly how Kasumi diligently worked to clear   
the mess, obviously tired to anyone who paid attention, hiding it with   
sheer discipline so as to appear cheerful, even then.  
  
He saw Tendo-san's face as the older man sighed at the destruction of   
his beloved dojo and house.  
  
Ranma recalled how guilty his mother's eyes seemed as she saw her host   
sigh. She felt guilt and shame because her son was the reason of the   
destruction. Soun's kindness should have been repaid in the same, not   
in a show of hostility. It did not matter that others had done the   
damaging; as guests they were responsible, as the intruders had come   
for _them_. Mostly, anyway.  
  
He understood how his mother felt, but he also knew Tendo-san's   
feelings. The man did not blame the Saotomes in the slightest; he knew   
the risks of what he wanted to do and accepted them. The wedding would   
have been a success had it not been for the attackers. It might seem   
deeper than the pigtailed youth could understand, but like Ranma,   
Tendo-san was a martial artist; he understood these things, and lived   
by them. They were alike.  
  
Besides, it was his daughter who had tipped off the uninvited guests.  
  
(Nabiki...)  
  
The young Saotome sighed. With a technique that defied physics, Kami   
above knew what the girl would do with the information. Even if he   
faced Nabiki about it, she would wave aside his complaints. She always   
had answers for everything, a dozen reasons ready at hand.  
  
(And she does it all like it's nothin'.)  
  
Brash and confident as he was, Ranma knew he was outclassed in the   
reasoning area. Nabiki was the master there, and how could he ignore   
the facts that she shoved into his face? Nevermind that she had to   
manipulate half-truths, inveigled people -- namely him -- or had just   
plain lied to do so; it was hard to deny her reasoning. Especially if   
one lacked the knowledge and experience.  
  
That, and a backbone.  
  
He sighed again.  
  
(What to do what to do wh-)  
  
"Ranma!"  
  
The boy turned towards the voice, broken out of his musings.  
  
To find that he couldn't breathe.  
  
Saotome Nodoka hugged her beloved son tightly, gushing about her   
beloved manly son, how she had nearly lost him, and so on, and so   
forth.  
  
****  
  
A more composed Saotome Nodoka sat in a chair by Ranma's bedside. Her   
son, no longer asphyxiating, was inspecting the food she had brought.   
He did a little sampling as he went through them, of course.  
  
"Unagi, ebi tempura, takoyaki.. mom! You brought all my favourites!   
Did Doc tell ya I woke up?"  
  
"No dear, he did not. I was thinking of waving them under your nose to   
get you out of your coma."  
  
Ranma gave her an incredulous look. "Mom?"  
  
"Well, you are your father's son."  
  
His expression changed to one of sheepishness, and he only managed a   
weak "Heh heh."  
  
"Ranma dear," Nodoka's expression turned slightly serious, "Doctor   
Toufuu said you nearly died. What in the name of the Kami happened?"  
  
"Uhh... I... was trying out a new technique."  
  
"A martial arts technique, Ranma?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Did it work?"  
  
He didn't answer, but looked at his hands. He was obviously trying to   
find an answer, looking very thoughtful as he twiddled his fingers.   
  
Ranma looked up and into his mother's eyes.  
  
He would not bring any more destruction to the Tendo Dojo. He will not   
have his mother suffer any guilt, not even the slightest.  
  
"Naah Mom. It didn't. Went haywire is more like it."  
  
His mother nodded in understanding. "I'm sure you'll get it next time,   
dear."  
  
Ranma offered his mother a wide grin. "Of course I will, Mom. Saotome   
Ranma never gives up, and always gets his... err... move. Heh."  
  
Nodoka got up from her seat, stepped forward, and hugged him tightly,   
though not as crushing as before. "Oh Ranma, you make your mother so   
proud. To me you're already a man amongst men, but you're taking it   
even further."  
  
Ranma slowly returned his mother's embrace, a puzzled expression on   
his face.  
  
"Uhh... even further? Err... whaddaya mean, Mom?"  
  
His mother broke the embrace, and looked straight into his eyes.   
  
"You're a superb martial artist, Ranma, and you do it so well because   
you truly put your heart into it. Now, you're going to do the same   
with your studies, I can only imagine how well you are going to do at   
school."  
  
Nodoka's eyes had started to look slightly dewy.  
  
"At first I thought you were going to focus slightly less on the Art;   
study does take up quite a bit of your time, after all. But now I   
stand here, I see that you are devoted as ever to our family's Art.   
Not even a near death experience deters you."  
  
The Saotome matriarch had shed some tears, and she bowed her head so   
that her son would not have to see them. She pulled out a handkerchief   
and gently dabbed at her tears.  
  
"I am sorry to cry and embarrass you, my son, but I'm so proud of you.   
All of this... means so very much to me."  
  
"Uhh..." the pigtailed boy struggled to find something to offer his   
mother, "it... it's okay Mom. I'm not embarrassed or nothin'."  
  
Nodoka dabbed at her eyes once again, and looked up, smiling at her   
son. "That's 'not embarrassed or anything', dear."  
  
"Uhh... right. Mom, if you don't mind me asking, why does it mean so   
much to you? Not that I have a problem with it or anythin', ya know...   
I'm... ah... curious."  
  
Smiling at her quizzical son, she stepped back, and sat on the chair.   
"It is every mother's dream that her child be successful, no matter   
what he or she does. In your case Ranma, you have done me proud by   
excelling at your Art. However, your pursuit of the Art has made you   
neglect your studies. Now, you seek to correct that. I was so happy   
when you made that dinner announcement on Saturday. To have one's son   
excel in one field, is one thing, Ranma. To have him succeed in two   
opposing areas..." Nodoka didn't finish her sentence, but merely   
smiled proudly at her son.  
  
Ranma was starting to blush a little; he had never been praised this   
much before. To have his mother say all that had been said... He did   
his best not to choke on his words.  
  
"Mom, if it meant so much to you that I do well in my studies, why   
didn't you say anything earlier?"  
  
Her shoulders sagged slightly, as her eyes turned a trifle sad. "I   
could have, couldn't I?"  
  
Ranma nodded.  
  
"And you would have done as I had asked, wouldn't you, dear?"  
  
"Yeah, Mom. You only had to ask."  
  
Nodoka sighed softly, nearly inaudibly.   
  
"Shortly after your fifth birthday, your father took you on that   
training journey. I tried to stop him, but he convinced me that it   
would be for the best. Although you are now cursed to turn female with   
cold water, it has only made you far stronger. If anything, you are   
more manly _because_ of the curse. From what I have seen so far, you   
try harder to prove yourself. The trials and tribulations you have   
gone through are fit for the lifetimes of five people, Ranma, not one.   
You struggle to be the best, no matter how demanding the situation   
is."  
  
Pride flooded his chest, though he did not look it; his mother's   
acknowledgement, in so many words, had made so much of his pain   
worthwhile.  
  
Nodoka continued, "Therein lies the problem, Ranma. For ten years,   
your father had demanded so much from you. He had to have demanded so   
much, else you would not be this good, this young."  
  
Ranma nodded his assent.  
  
"Your training demands your utmost concentration. Your rivals demand   
that you fight your hardest, demand that you lose and prove their   
superiority. Your suitors demand your attention, your love, that you   
return what they feel for you. The Amazon matriarch demands that you   
bow to their laws and return to their lands. Master Happousai demands   
that you show him respect, though it is more to let him have his   
errant ways with the town. Tendo-san demands that you marry one of his   
daughters and join our families, for the sake of honour."  
  
By then Nodoka was looking at her hands, which were on her lap.  
  
"Even- Even I demanded so much of you," she said, nearly whispering.   
"That contract."  
  
"Mom-"  
  
Nodoka shushed him, cutting off her son's protest. "It is the truth,   
dear."  
  
Ranma had nothing to say to that.  
  
"I asked Kasumi, about how you first knew of me. She told me that   
until a few months ago, you did not even know that you had a mother,   
Ranma." Nodoka sounded as if she was going to cry again.  
  
"Uhh... Mom... I-"  
  
His mother silenced him with a small gesture.  
  
"It is not your fault, dear. What I'm trying to say is, is that I have   
been absent from you life for so long, that I feel that I have no   
place in your life anymore. I didn't know anything about you. Not what   
you're like, not what your favourite food is, not even what you look   
like..."  
  
Another soft sob escaped her. "Even the people who shout for your   
death know you more than I did. _They_ had more to do with you than I.   
It was as if I had all but abandoned my one and only child. I   
certainly have no right to _demand_ anything from you, Ranma. It is a   
mother's right to ask a of her flesh and blood, but right now it feels   
so wrong."  
  
"I didn't feel it before, but I do, now, " Nodoka said under her   
breath, as if to herself.  
  
Ranma could only stare at his mother, who was evidently trying to hold   
back the tears, and failing. Her shoulders shook, and the sight broke   
her son's heart.  
  
The youth was at a loss. Nothing in his training had prepared him for   
this. Racking his brains, he finally got off the bed, went to his   
mother's side, and hugged her close. Nodoka hugged him in return,   
still crying silently.  
  
"Uhh... don't cry Mom. Errmm... uhh... it's not your fault either, ya   
know? We all hadta do what we hadta do... uhh..."  
  
Internally, Ranma beat his head, trying to find something appropriate   
to say to his mother.   
  
"Errmm... what's passed, is in the past... now that you're here...   
you're... as much of my life as Pops, ya know? Maybe even more... I   
know you take better care of me than he does. Uhh... you're the best   
Mom a guy could ever have," he said, still hugging his mother.  
  
"Besides, you don't hafta demand anythin', ya know. You're my Mom,   
always have been, always will be. All you ever hafta do is ask."  
  
The only reply he got was the tightening of his mother's embrace. It   
did not crush him, but told him that what he had said was what his   
mother had dearly needed to hear.  
  
****   
-A little later-  
  
Ranma was gobbling down the food that his mother had brought.  
  
Nodoka was sipping her tea, poured from her flask. "Ranma dear, that   
food isn't going anywhere. Why don't you slow down? It will taste   
better that way."  
  
He promptly acquiesced, and the slight blur in front of him solidified   
in mid-air into a hand bearing a pair of chopsticks, slowly delivering   
a payload of cured weiner octupus.  
  
"Mmm mmm... these are great Mom."  
  
"I'll be sure to tell Kasumi you said that. She made that one."  
  
"Kasumi made this? Mmm... now there's a Tendo that can really cook."  
  
Nodoka glanced at Ranma slyly, who was about to swallow a prawn. "Oh?   
What about Akane?"  
  
"Haack!" Ranma hacked and coughed and sputtered immediately, as the   
memory of the sight and chi-taste of the squid flashed back to him. It   
lasted for half a minute, before he finally caught himself.  
  
"Uhh... sorry 'bout that Mom. Anyway, I said 'now there's a Tendo that   
can REALLY cook.'"  
  
"Really, dear? As I recall, someone had dove -- nearly literally --   
into a bowl of curry last Saturday evening. In fact, I had never seen   
him devour Kasumi's curry quite like that. I assure you, Kasumi did   
not even touch a speck of curry powder on that day."  
  
"Uhh... ahhh... well..."  
  
Nodoka looked at her son slyly as he tried to counter her words. "I   
think his words were, and I quote, 'This curry is great!'" she   
mimicked, deepening her voice a little to complete the effect.  
  
"That... was... umm... I mean..."  
  
"He hardly said anything to his mother during dinner. He merely   
grunted, as he shovelled the curry into his mouth. Tsk tsk. Can you   
imagine that?" asked Nodoka. She smugly sipped her tea.  
  
Her son threw up his hands. "All right! She cooks a real mean curry!"  
  
"'A real mean curry', Ranma? Is that all?"  
  
The pigtailed boy spared her a momentary look of utter hopelessness.   
He drew in a breath and said, "It was the best curry I've ever had."  
  
His shoulders then slumped and he sighed exaggeratedly, as if he had   
just been relieved of a great burden.  
  
"_Really_?" Nodoka squaled. "Ooh, wait 'till Akane-chan hears this!"  
  
"Huh? Ahh-- Uhh... emm.. Moooommm!" the poor boy was quite red.  
  
"Now, now, Ranma," soothed his mother, patting his hand. "You simply   
_must_ learn to give praise accordingly. You will have more allies   
that way."  
  
"Tell me about it," grumbled the boy, as he remembered how he had told   
someone that 'she was cute' all those months ago.  
  
"_Deserving_ praise, Ranma. Flattering someone to get out of trouble   
will almost always backfire, I assure you."  
  
"Uhh..." Great. His mother was psychic. "Umm... I'll keep that in   
mind, Mom."  
  
"I'm sure you will, dear," said Nodoka. "Or do you actually want a new   
fiancée?"  
  
Immediately Ranma went into another hacking/coughing session, this one   
lasting for about a full minute. He struggled to get his breath, and   
turned to his mother.  
  
"Moommm!"   
  
Nodoka broke into peals of laughter. It was a few moments before she   
managed to compose herself. "Oh I'm sorry dear, but you looked so   
adorable."  
  
"Huh?" Ranma didn't know what else to say. "Umm... if you say so, Mom.   
And no, I ain't lookin' for a new fiancée. Ucch- Ukyou by herself is   
one too many."  
  
"Oh?" quizzed Nodoka, "I thought you called her 'Ucchan', Ranma dear?   
That's what you call your best friend, don't you?"  
  
The boy heaved a sigh. "Best friends don't crash your wedding, Mom."  
  
Nodoka was inscrutable. "I see. Did you want to get married, then?"  
  
"It's not about getting married, Mom. It's about letting me live my   
life. It's about respecting my decisions. Nobody actually listens to   
what I actually want to do!"  
  
It was Nodoka's turn to sigh, although very softly. "Including me."  
  
"I didn't say that!" Ranma nearly shouted.  
  
"But it's true, isn't it?" his mother said softly.  
  
"No-"  
  
Nodoka's soft hand on his cut off his denial.  
  
"It is time we faced the truth, dear."  
  
Ranma could only nod dumbly.  
  
"What about Akane?"  
  
"Huh? What about the tomboy?"  
  
"Does she listen to what you want to say or do?"  
  
"Uh... well... she keeps shovin' that sludge she calls her cookin' in   
my face all the time..." his sentence trailed off as Nodoka gave him a   
very stern look.  
  
(Sheesh... Forgot that ya avoided lookin' me in the eyes when she   
shoved that squid in my face, eh Mom?)  
  
"Heh... umm... the tomboy? She... uhh... doesn't twist my arm or   
nothin'... not even... uhh... at the wedding. She doesn't listen to my   
side of the story much," Nodoka raised an eyebrow at that, unnoticed   
by her son, "but she... uh... never tried ta make me do stuff I really   
don't wanna."  
  
('Cept make me eat her cooking...)  
  
"I see. Does Ukyou... twist your arm, Ranma? Borrowing your   
expression, that is."  
  
"Umm... Sometimes."  
  
"Hence your being upset with her."  
  
Ranma nodded. "Yeah, I guess... and..."  
  
"Oh?" Nodoka was intrigued. "Would you share it with me, dear?"  
  
Pausing, he said, "Not that I wanted ta get married or nothin',   
but..."  
  
"Go on."  
  
"It was a special day, ya know? For a girl... uh... for..."  
  
"You're upset because Ukyou ruined Akane's special day, Ranma?"  
  
"Not that I give a hoot 'bout the tomboy or nothin'... heh. It's just   
that there are some things ya don't do, if you get my drift. I...   
still consider Ucchan a friend, but..."  
  
His mother looked at him inscrutably, silent for a few moments, which   
he spent getting his breath back. The conversation was exhausting.  
  
"It seems to me, Ranma, that you're upset with Ukyou, but not too   
upset. However, you're still treating her like you're really upset   
because you don't know what else to do."  
  
"I'm treating her like I'm really upset 'cuz I'm really upset!"  
  
Nodoka stared at her son, taken aback by Ranma's sudden outburst.  
  
"Ucchan's the last person I expected to do what she did, Mom! She's my   
best friend! She should've asked me what I wanted! Not like I know   
what the hell- uh... heck I want, but it was the right thing to do!   
It's what friends do!"  
  
Ranma broke off his tirade and looked at his mom a bit nervously.   
"That's what friends do, right?"  
  
Nodoka fought off a giggle. "Yes, dear. That is what a friend would   
do."  
  
"And she crashed the place!" he abruptly continued, vindicated. "No   
questions, no nothing! She just walked in and threw bombs! Like she   
wasn't even my friend!"  
  
"You know what makes it worse, Mom? It's not really her fault! I can't   
really blame her for what she did, as much as I want to. I'm mad at   
her, but I'm not! Her fiancé was about to get hitched to someone else,   
for Kami's sake! I mean, what else could she have done?"  
  
Nodoka nodded, "Thus she came in like a jilted lover."  
  
"But we're not lovers! For ten years I thought that she was a guy!   
From the moment we met! Almost like a brother!" He paused. "Who wants   
to marry me... some brother, huh?"  
  
Ranma looked at his mother, eyes slightly drooped. "I should be angry,   
and I am. I shouldn't be angry, and I'm not."  
  
"Angry? With whom, dear?" his mother prodded.  
  
"With Ucchan. Shampoo. Heck, even Pops."  
  
The youth sighed again, looking very tired. "I don't know what to do,   
Mom. I really don't. Everybody knows it, and everybody thinks I should   
do things their way." He gazed into the ceiling, eyes unfocused.   
"Everybody."  
  
"Everybody, dear?"  
  
"Everybody but the tomboy," the boy replied softly, the effort of the   
conversation finally taking its toll on his convalescing body. "Maybe   
that's why I like her more than everyone else."  
  
Her eyes widened. Had Ranma just said what she thought he just said?  
  
"But I can't show that I like her... 'cuz I don't know what I'm really   
feeling. And 'cuz I don't know what I want. I don't know even know   
what to do with her... even if she's the one I really-" Ranma yawned,   
and continued in a lower voice, fatigue settling deeper, "- that I   
really want."  
  
Nodoka merely looked at her son, wondering if Ranma fully realized   
what he was saying. She doubted it; he looked more asleep than awake.  
  
"I don't want to hurt her. Not her."  
  
"At least I know..." Ranma yawned again, "I love my Mom."  
  
With that, Ranma fell into a deep slumber, leaving Nodoka to stare at   
him with dewy eyes. Then her tears flowed. Her son was confused,   
angry, sad, frustrated, all at once. So young, yet so burdened, and   
there was nothing she could do. The threads in play ran longer than   
the Saotome's loom.  
  
Nodoka settled to watch over her sleeping child. She would pray that   
he found peace in his sleep, at least.  
  
**********   
-Furinkan High, Friday-  
  
"Saotome!"  
  
Kuno Tatewaki, captain of the Furinkan High Kendo team, stood   
imperiously upon the path between the school gates and doors. He was,   
as usual, the very embodiment of righteous fury against The Foul Magus   
Saotome.  
  
"Hmm? Oh... morning, moron."  
  
Saotome Ranma, resident living embodiment of Chaos and unofficial   
patron god of Martial Arts of Furinkan, plodded morosely upon said   
path. He was, at the moment, the very picture of one who is not bright   
and chipper.  
  
"Insolent cur! You shouwpubbth-"  
  
It was hard to vocalize one's thoughts through a mouthful of dirt and   
grass, laced with a touch of unconsciousness, as Kuno then found out.   
  
Again.  
  
"Shithead," muttered the young Saotome, lowering his arm from the   
single uppercut to Kuno's solar plexus. Though nearly inaudible, the   
phrase was somehow carried by a slight breeze, that all on the path   
heard it. All of a sudden there was an glaring absence of students on   
the paved footway between Ranma and the school entrance.  
  
A slightly irritated Ranma was quite frequently seen.  
  
One showing even a semblance of a temper was not. The prudent students   
of Furinkan High had acted accordingly.  
  
Ranma continued walking down the path, oblivious to his unintentional   
monoply. Akane walked quietly alongside him, just behind his right   
shoulder. She waved to some of her friends, mouthing "good morning" as   
she did so, and continued walking with her fiancé, looking slightly   
concerned. Like the rest of the observing students, she was wondering   
what was bothering Ranma.  
  
The reason for Ranma's extreme irritation was quite simple really,   
although for a normal person it would sound quite... strange.  
  
Starting that day, Saotome Ranma had to do well in school.  
  
No more sleeping in class.   
  
No more automatic backhands against flying board erasers in his sleep.  
  
No more ignoring the teacher in favour of sitting crosslegged on his   
chair while eating a bento, ill-hidden by a book spread wide and made   
to stand.  
  
No more skipping classes with Hiroshi and Daisuke to go to the arcade   
or their cafe haunts.  
  
(My life sucks.)  
  
Having to listen to Hinako's lectures.  
  
(My life really sucks.)  
  
Having to stay awake through History.  
  
(Kami-sama my life really sucks.)  
  
And Mathematics.  
  
(Shit.)  
  
Get the best grades he possibly could in all his subjects.  
  
*Sigh*  
  
Standing before the door of his classroom, he took a deep breath.  
  
(Suck it up and take it like a man, Saotome. What would Pops say if he   
saw you like this?)  
  
His mood improved slightly, but was laced with irritation at his panda   
father. Ranma didn't feel like starting the school day with thoughts   
of his old man.  
  
(Do it for Mom. Do it for Mom. Do it for Mom. Do it...)  
  
Repeating the mantra to himself, he stepped into classroom 2-F.  
  
****  
  
"Good morning everyone!"  
  
Ninomiya Hinako bounced into the classroom, carrying her books, a   
lollipop in her mouth.  
  
Ranma merely grumbled.  
  
"Mister Saotome, you're back!" exclaimed the teacher, her cute smile   
widening as she bounced over to his desk.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," the boy replied.  
  
Hinako beamed at his reply, seemingly uncaring of her student's   
grumpy, nearly rude attitude. She was just glad to have him back.   
Furinkan just wasn't the same without her most problematic student. He   
was, after all, the reason for her transfer to Furinkan. His sullen   
demeanour was a sure sign that he was being his usual delinquent self.   
  
Finally, things were getting back to normal.  
  
Still smiling warmly at Ranma, the juvenile teacher gave a small,   
contented sigh; it felt so good to be on familiar grounds again.   
  
"Uhh..."  
  
Ranma was starting to fidget. His teacher was still giving him that   
warm smile. Smiles are fine. He didn't mind smiles.  
  
A warm smile with a slightly lingering gaze, however, spelled definite   
trouble. It didn't matter if the smile was platonic, Trouble would   
just invite itself in if the smile persisted.  
  
"Sensei..."  
  
"Hmm?" replied the teacher, still half immersed in reverie.  
  
"Sensei!"  
  
The shout finally brought Hinako back into the classroom. "Yes, Miss   
Tendo?"  
  
Maintaining a look that would have withered lesser women, Akane   
replied, "Roll call."  
  
"Hmm? Oh!" Hinako bounded over to the teachers table, and opened the   
class register. With the lollipop still dangling from her mouth, she   
went through the list.  
  
****  
  
"Darn..." muttered Hinako as the chalk she was holding broke on the   
last character she was writing. She rubbed on the extended stroke with   
a finger, placed a period, and turned to face her students.  
  
"Now, who can give me the translation for... for... Mister Saotome!"  
  
"Huh?" said the boy, clearly bewildered. He had been trying to   
translate 'Hideki bought himself a can of cold coffee.' English was so   
damn hard.  
  
"What are you doing?" By then the dimunitive teacher was standing in   
front of his desk, arms akimbo.   
  
"Huh?" was all Ranma could manage, "I'm doing what you told the class   
ta do, what's it look like?"  
  
Hinako immediately took a reflexive step backwards. "You..." Ranma had   
to strain to hear what she was saying.  
  
With a look of near horror, she exclaimed "You're paying attention!"  
  
That did it. More than twenty heads snapped around to look at Ranma,   
who was wide awake, not eating, and had a _pencil_ in his hand.  
  
The classroom was suddenly very, very quiet.  
  
"Well, D~UH!" Ranma answered irritably. He had heard someone use that   
last word a few weeks ago, and it suited the moment perfectly, he   
thought.  
  
A small, faint squeaking and scratching sound came, followed by   
another, another, another, and another. Within ten seconds, the class   
again fell into a pocket of silence.  
  
By then Ranma had his own constituency within the classroom. The desks   
around his, save Akane's, were at least four feet away from his.  
  
One of the students shivered. He had left his good luck charm in his   
locker. How was he to know Saotome was going to pull a weird one?! The   
guy looked normal today! Sure, he had looked kinda grumpy in the   
morning, but he put Kuno out like a light! He hadn't done that for   
weeks! Practically everybody had big goofy grins when Ranma had   
disappeared past the school doors! Violence had returned to Furinkan!   
Chaos! Mass destruction! _Everybody_ agreed life would be normal   
again! Even the teachers! It made sense to leave the charms!  
  
Now _this_. It was all the boy could do to stop from gibbering. The   
sentiment was particularly common in the classroom at the moment.  
  
Ranma was, understandably irritated. "What the _hell_ is wrong with ya   
people?"   
  
After taking a few moments to compose herself, Hinako finally crossed   
her arms and said, "Care to explain yourself, Mister Saotome?"  
  
"What?" Ranma shot up from his seat, wearing an expression that said   
'You hafta be shittin' me.'  
  
"You hafta be shittin' me!"  
  
Normally, he wouldn't have used that kind of language on a teacher,   
but the day was really getting to him.  
  
"This is a school! I'm here to learn somethin'! _You_ are supposed to   
teach me! You were teaching! I was learning! What's there to   
explain?!"  
  
Hinako had taken another step backwards, one of her arms held out in   
front of her, bent at the elbow, as if to shield herself. Her face   
held a look of utter disbelief.  
  
"That can't be!" she exclaimed. Hinako told herself that she had heard   
him wrong. Ranma had fought her every attempt to educate him tooth   
and nail. One morning he just shows up ready to be taught? It couldn't   
be. Her world as she knew it was not dangerously wrong. She was safe,   
she had to be! Ranma _must_ be kidding with her!  
  
"Mister Saotome," she said in a slightly quivering voice, "you're   
making a joke, right?"  
  
Her voice came out soft, nearly pleading.  
  
Heaving a big, heavy sigh, Ranma lifted the book he was writing on,   
and showed a partly completed sentence. "I was trying to translate the   
sentence you wrote on the board, sensei."  
  
The young teacher didn't even see the book he was showing her. She was   
looking straight into his eyes, her face showing the struggle within.   
The struggle to rationalize the irrational, to understand the   
incomprehensible. Finally, she reached a conclusion.  
  
"You're up to something!" she exclaimed, pointing a finger at Ranma.  
  
"_WHAT_?!"  
  
Ranma's expression now read as 'Are you out of your freakin' mind?'  
  
"Are you out of your freakin' mind?!" he wasn't being particularly   
choosy of his words at the moment, and Hinako didn't even seem to   
notice. Ranma turned to look at his classmates.  
  
To see them nod in agreement with Hinako.  
  
The young Saotome fell to his seat, leaned back, and slapped his   
forehead. Putting his hand down, he looked at his classmates again.   
"You people don't believe I'm studying, just like you?"  
  
All around, heads shook. Some slowly, others Soun-like -- near   
epileptic. Hinako was among the slower ones.  
  
Again, Ranma sighed. This couldn't be happening to him. All he wanted   
to do was study and make his mother proud of him. Now this.  
  
He turned to look at Akane, hoping she could suggest something.  
  
Akane shrugged, looking unsure of the situation.  
  
Sighing for the umpteenth time, Ranma turned to Hinako. Maybe some   
sarcasm would work; anything, and that meant _anything_, was better   
than this, he was _sure_ of it.  
  
"Fine. I'm JUST pretending to study. I'm using it as a cover for my   
real plans. I'm actually ogling you, Hinako-sensei. I'm using my every   
waking moment to have a really good look at your body, in both forms."  
  
By then, Hinako was covering her mouth daintily, wearing an   
inscrutable expression. Finally, she said, "Really?"  
  
"NO!" Ranma shot out of his seat, "I'm here to study! Didn't you hear   
me earlier?!"  
  
It was no use. Hinako was lost in the recesses of her mind,   
contemplating Ranma's 'secret plan.' The class was abuzz with talk of   
the latest development.  
  
"It makes sense, you know. He was practically staring at her!"  
  
"Wow, who knew? All this while he pretended to fight Hinako-sensei,   
but he actually has the hots for her!"  
  
"I _told_ you so! Remember how he used to grab Hinako-sensei's   
breasts? He said it was a technique!" A giggle was heard. "That's some   
technique! I'll bet he's hooked on the sensei!"  
  
"I wouldn't blame him; Hinako's damn hot!"  
  
"You think Hinako-sensei's hooked on him too?"  
  
"Say... now _there's_ a thought!"  
  
It crossed Ranma's mind that maybe, just maybe, this sarcasm thing   
wasn't much better.  
  
"It all makes sense! Akane's always calling him a pervert! The poor   
guy's just being himself!"  
  
"Hey! You're right!"  
  
"I think you just hit the jackpot, man!"  
  
Ranma could only look and listen to all of it, completely slackjawed.   
A few more minutes passed that way, until his brain finally resumed   
control of his jaw.  
  
"OI!!"  
  
Everybody clammed up and turned to look at him.  
  
"Are you people _NUTS_?" the poor boy was very nearly tearing his hair   
out.  
  
The response to his question was... disconcerting. One by one, a look   
of smiling approval was directed his way by his classmates. A common   
thought ran through many, many minds.  
  
*The poor guy's just being himself.*  
  
"Arrrghhhh!!" Poor Ranma couldn't take it anymore. He turned to Akane   
for help.  
  
He found none. Apparently Akane's system had locked up during his   
'admission to a secret plan.' The girl sat unmoving, looking at him   
with vacant, shocked eyes.  
  
(Oh shit.) His one hope for support was catatonic.  
  
Desperate, he turned to face Hinako.  
  
"Sensei?" his voice was nearly pleading.  
  
Hinako was still staring at him with that inscrutable look.  
  
"Sensei?" Ranma's voice rose a little.  
  
It worked. Slowly, Hinako lowered her hand from her mouth, and smiled   
shyly at him.   
  
"You should have said so earlier, Ranma-kun. You gave me quite a   
fright."  
  
"Wha-....?" Ranma couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
  
"You have my permission to... continue with your plan, Ranma-kun,"   
said Hinako, as she smartly turned around and walked to the front of   
the class. There, she picked up her book, and started to continue   
teaching.  
  
Suddenly a thought struck her, and she moved towards the door, and   
stepped out. Two moments later, she stepped back in.  
  
Correction. Adult Hinako stepped back in. Her clothes stretched, this   
way and that, and it bulged here, curved there.  
  
"Better, Ranma-kun?" she asked, smiling shyly at him.  
  
Saotome Ranma could only bang his head on his desk, again, and again,   
and again, and...  
  
**********  
  
"Tadaima," called out a tired, flat voice.  
  
Stepping out of a doorway, Nodoka saw her son trudge into the house   
proper from the foyer. He was looking very sullen, and his shoulders   
drooped.  
  
"Oh dear," she murmured as she hurried to his side. Nodoka gave her   
son a once over, and found not even a scratch. "What's wrong, Ranma   
dear? Where's Akane?"  
  
Ranma continued to walk, straight into the kitchen, and dropped   
himself into a chair. Nodoka moved to the stove to make him some tea.  
  
"Rough day at school, Mom."  
  
In his opinion, 'rough' hardly cut it. First, the big, idiotic   
production in Hinako's class. He had managed to stop himself from   
banging his head on his desk after five minutes, and did his best to   
concentrate on studying. Although he had to work hard at ignoring   
Hinako's shy smiles, he did manage to learn _something_.  
  
Then, came math. Though the teacher didn't make a fuss like Hinako   
did, the other students noticed that he had been paying attention to   
_that_ teacher too! Sure, the teacher was female, but was in her late   
thirties and had had a child. Wild speculations were flung back and   
forth throughout the class.  
  
Math was followed by History, taught by Fujishima-sensei, a forty-five   
year old man with a balding pate, thick glasses and a paunch, all at a   
not so impressive five foot two. Still, Ranma paid attention.  
  
Understandably, lunch was a veritable explosion of gossiping and   
rumour-mongering. The news -- and all its colourful variants -- spread   
like wildfire throughout the school. Those who were still commenting   
on Kuno's rapid defeat that morning found more juicy stories about the   
school's favourite martial artist and source for entertainment and   
gossip - Ranma.  
  
Ranma had the hots for Hinako.  
  
Hinako also had the hots for Ranma.  
  
Ranma had the hots for the math teacher.  
  
Ranma had the hots for Fujishima-sensei. Nearly the whole school gave   
disgusted looks at that thought. No, Ranma doesn't have the hots for   
Fujishima; it didn't make sense. Then...  
  
Ranma _must_ have _another_ ultra secret plan! That thing about ogling   
Hinako was just a ruse!  
  
It couldn't be _just_ a ruse! Hinako actually transformed for Ranma!   
And she was so shy in front of him! It had to be true! _That_ got a   
lot of heads nodding.  
  
Then... that ogling thing must be only part of a bigger, more cunning   
plan! More had nodded to that.  
  
But what could the plan be? From there, it all went downhill, as   
dozens and dozens of theories, speculations and stabs in the dark were   
made.  
  
For once, Nabiki did not make a single yen out of such a juicy topic.   
How could she, when she hadn't been privy to the details? That   
infuriated her no end, and was the only thing Ranma could name as a   
'good thing that happened today'. Anything that ticked off the middle   
Tendo was a good thing, in Ranma's books.  
  
Nodoka poured Ranma a mug of tea, and sat in front of him. "My, they   
must be pushing students very hard at school these days. Dear, where's   
Akane?"  
  
Ranma took a sip of his tea, placed the mug on the table, and then his   
face next to it. He sighed heavily, and said "She's with her friends.   
She's not talking to me."  
  
"Oh? And why is that, dear?"  
  
"She-" he halted, and sighed again. "Rumours at school. People are   
saying that I have a crush on one of the teachers, and that she has a   
crush on me, and blah blah blah..."  
  
"Oh my," was all Nodoka could say.  
  
"Whatta buncha goofballs..." muttered Ranma, before he sighed again.   
He had never thought he would see what he had seen that day, when   
everybody in his school collectively made less sense than Kodachi.  
  
"Ranma, dear?" said Nodoka softly.  
  
Still with his head on the table, he answered, "Yeah, Mom?"  
  
"Is- Are the rumours true?" asked Nodoka seriously.  
  
"What? NO!" Ranma was suddenly sitting up ramrod straight, looking at   
his mother in the eyes.  
  
"Now, now, Ranma. Don't get angry at me," soothed Nodoka, patting his   
hand. "I was just asking, and I believe you," she said, smiling gently   
at her son.  
  
Ranma sighed again. He had been doing that a lot, lately. "Sorry, Mom.   
It was crazy at school." He rested his head on the table again. Nodoka   
gently reached out, and stroked his hair. Detecting no complaint from   
her child, Nodoka continued to run her fingers through his hair, like   
she had done when he was much younger and was but an innocent baby on   
her lap.  
  
"I can only imagine, dear."  
  
Ranma gave a small nod. "The bad thing is, it's not over. Sure, it's   
already the weekend, but Nabiki's gonna be home soon, and she's been   
lookin' for me all day. Bet she's pissed. I've been makin' myself   
scarce the whole day, and she couldn't make a yen. Heh."  
  
Ranma gave a small smile. It was a small victory, but it bugged   
Nabiki, and that was good.  
  
"I see. Are you expecting... retribution, dear?"  
  
"If you mean is she gonna get back at me, yeah. You bet," answered the   
boy tiredly. "Man, this sucks. This weekend is gonna suck _bad_. What   
really sucks is that I haven't done anythin'!"  
  
Nodoka remained silent for a while. "Ranma, why don't you get out your   
backpack?"  
  
That got his attention, and he sat up. "Mom?"  
  
His mother was smiling serenely, as usual. "As I remember, dear, you   
still have that technique to practice."  
  
Ranma's brow furrowed. "Technique? Which technique, Mom?"  
  
"The one you told me about at the clinic, dear," she answered. "You're   
the heir to our family's Art. It would hardly do for you to be   
distracted while you're trying to master a technique, would it now,   
dear?"  
  
Realization finally dawned on Ranma, and his face showed it. "A   
weekend training trip?" he asked, grinning.  
  
"To a place of your choice, by yourself. Now, you best get your things   
together, and hurry. I'll explain to the others later. Oh! And take   
your books along, won't you, Ranma?"  
  
Nodding once to his mother, Ranma zipped to the guest room, where   
Genma and Nodoka stayed, to get his backpack. Then he rushed to the   
dojo, where he now slept, to get his clothes and stuff. He'd get his   
own room in a few months, when the Saotome house had been repaired.   
For the time being, the dojo was his room. Not that he minded.  
  
Less than five minutes after disappearing from the kitchen, Nodoka met   
Ranma at the engawa. "I haven't had time to prepare you anything dear.   
Here's some money for food."  
  
Pocketing the money, Ranma then hugged his mother. "Thanks Mom."  
  
She returned his hug, and then broke away. "Keep in mind, Ranma, that   
I'm not teaching you to run away from your problems. Always do your   
best to face your problems directly. However, when things are not your   
fault, you may give yourself the freedom of choice."  
  
Her son nodded. "You better get going, Ranma dear. Just don't forget   
to come back now," she added teasingly.  
  
"Don't worry, Mom," said Ranma. "School on Monday. How can I forget?"  
  
Nodoka smiled approvingly as he put on his shoes. As he moved for the   
door, Nodoka called out, "Dear, maybe it would best if you didn't make   
yourself too visible, hmm?"  
  
Ranma threw his mother a grin. "Gotcha, Mom."   
  
With that, he sneaked out the door, then over the rear gate.  
  
**********  
  
Nature is truly beauteous.  
  
An example of her beauty was currently inching forward quietly on   
soft, black paws. Its furry padded feet made hardly any noise, as the   
fox sneaked silently, eyes set on the rabbit five meters away. Its   
whiskers twitched as it took another quiet step forward; the fox was   
agitated, for it had been two days since it last ate. Starved as it   
was, the animal resisted the urge to sprint towards its prey right   
away. The rabbit was a matured adult, wary and ever watchful; the game   
had to be Sneak, Sprint, Surprise.  
  
Now at the very edge of the clearing, the fox coiled itself, preparing   
for the dash. It could practically taste the rabbit in its maw.   
  
Sprinting in T minus three.  
  
Two.  
  
O-  
  
"DAMN IT TO HELL!!!"  
  
Frayed nerves, splashed with a shot of shock, sent the fox two feet   
into the air, very nearly out of his skin. Head whipping side to side,   
it searched for the source of its shock, only to hear the sounds of   
fluttering wings and scurrying feet as avians and mammals bolted.  
  
Mammals?  
  
The fox turned to look at where the rabbit was. 'Was' being the   
operative word.  
  
It was quite a sight, to see the poor fox pull a Soun.  
  
****  
  
"Damn it to hell baka move!"  
  
Ranma was upset.  
  
"Damned pig-faced FU*KING PISSING bakayarou move!"  
  
Scratch that. He was very upset.  
  
There he was, in a light forest just outside a small town on the very   
fringe of the humongous sprawl collectively known as Tokyo. It was one   
of the many places that he had camped at during his training trip with   
Genma. He had arrived the night before, with the intent of perfecting   
his new skills.  
  
The sun was already three quarters past its apex and he had achieved   
not even glorified, bilious chi farts.  
  
"Da-"  
  
A sudden flash of lightning from the clear sky cut him off, and the   
ominous, rumbling thunder - which, oddly enough, seemed to warn him of   
his language - a second later convinced him to drop the matter.  
  
With a sigh, he dropped himself onto his rear, then onto his back,   
arms spread out.  
  
(Stupid technique.)  
  
It had seemed like the simplest thing. Concentrate, gather chi and   
focus it in the abdomen, then channel the chi and will the it to form   
into either one of the constructs he had seen. Not that he could see   
the constructs anymore, but each fold, twist and stretch _felt_   
unique, and he remembered the sequences by heart.  
  
Nothing.  
  
He had lost count of how many variations to the technique he had   
tried, hoping to get some kind of reaction. The young Saotome had   
tried emotions, pure will, stances - once even pretending that he   
didn't really care if he got the technique or not, then attempting it   
_surreptitiously_.  
  
Boy, did he feel like Elmer Fudd trying to sneak up on Bugs Bunny with   
that one.  
  
(What the hell am I doing wrong?)   
  
He continued to wonder, as he stared into the sky, absently tracing   
the outline of the occasional cloud. A gentle breeze wafted by,   
cooling his sweat-slickened skin. The pleasant chill calmed him   
somewhat, and eased his frustration over his failure to master a   
technique after eleven hours of trying. It was a feeling known to   
martial arts masters around the world; true, they felt it after years   
of trying -- not hours, but Saotome Ranma had standards to keep.  
  
Ranma felt another breeze, gentle and cooling, and he closed his eyes   
to savour the moment as he felt himself soothed. It had been quite a   
while since he had felt that calm, what with the engagements,   
challengers, teachers from hell, near death experiences.  
  
(Maybe I should've run away from Pop and stayed on my own. Stay here   
in the woods.)  
  
(Yup, right after Jusenkyou.)  
  
Suddenly a loud rumble reached his ears. His eyes snapped open, for a   
moment searching the sky for storm clouds, when he realized that it   
was his empty stomach that made the sound.  
  
It was a good thing, he realized, that he didn't run away after   
Jusenkyou. If he had, he would never have tasted Kasumi's cooking, a   
great loss by any standard.  
  
(Kasumi...)  
  
He had never told anyone, but he was in awe of the eldest of the Tendo   
sisters. She kept calm and cheerful -- honestly so -- come what may:   
monsters, Amazons, onis, trolls, ghosts. The only time he thought he   
saw a forced smile on Kasumi was after the near-wedding, while   
cleaning up the mess.  
  
The near-wedding.  
  
Akane.  
  
It seemed nearly bizarre, that Akane was related to Kasumi. The two   
were so... different. Worlds apart even. The two shared a similarity,   
however -- they both had warm, beautiful smiles. When Akane wasn't   
angry, that was.  
  
Brilliant smiles that warmed the heart, calming frayed nerves and   
apprehension. The kind one would want to see when coming home after a   
long, hard day. A smile that -  
  
The clearing was suddenly filled with the sound of flesh striking   
flesh rapidly, repeatedly.  
  
(Baka,) thought Ranma. His cheeks and palms stung, but he'd stopped   
_that_ train of thought.  
  
His stomach grumbled again, demanding to be fed. Ranma sat up, sighing   
as he did. He really didn't feel like eating canned food that night.   
  
(I think I'll have some rabbit...)  
  
He got up, engaged his Kijin Shikaku and went to look for animal life   
signatures.  
  
(Gonna get that move right after dinner... Yeah!)  
  
**********  
  
(Right after dinner my ass.)  
  
Slowly, Ranma bit into the skewered pieces of meat, barbequed to just   
before the meat was scorched. He slowly chewed his food, sitting under   
a tree against which he leaned.  
  
Normally, he would have inhaled the barbequed chicken. At the moment,   
however, he didn't feel particularly voracious. He wasn't even   
particularly hungry. Ranma had bought the chicken from a yatai just   
outside the park he was in because he didn't know what else to do.  
  
It had been twenty six days since that weekend in the forest just   
outside of Tokyo. All in all, twenty eight days of training and failed   
attempts, each forever burned into his mind. Four weekends worth of   
training trips.   
  
All which had amounted to nothing.  
  
Ranma had pushed himself to the limit of his abilities; being Genma's   
heir, that was quite a distance. It wasn't enough, it seemed and so   
Ranma went beyond himself.  
  
Seeing that technique alone yielded nothing, Ranma turned to physical   
training. From the dojo he would sprint to secluded hills or beaches,   
to find the biggest boulders he could find. These he pushed, dragged   
and as time went on, carried, threw and juggled. Limited strength   
wasn't an issue -- that was where chi came in. In fact, chi was the   
entire point. Ranma used his chi a lot.  
  
When he felt his reserves drop dangerously low, Ranma would   
practically force himself to rest, with every non-vital muscle group   
falling limp. Even his nervous system would partially shut down to   
minimize energy consumption and replenish his reserves. Within hours,   
though of late usually less, he would resume his training.  
  
At least once a day, he would attempt either one or both of the moves   
he sought. Every single attempt would fail. He told himself that his   
chi wasn't focused enough or wasn't strong enough and he would run off   
to push himself further. Other times he felt that he lacked finesse,   
thus he made sure that each successive attempt was more controlled   
than the last one. Always making sure, always pushing further, always   
trying harder.  
  
On top of everything, no one knew of where he went, what he did. After   
dinner, he would sneak away quietly to wherever he felt he should   
train. At first he would sneak away normally, but after numerous   
attempts by various parties to follow him, he employed the Way of the   
Silent Thief. It was a sealed technique, he knew, but Saotome Ranma   
would be damned if a bunch of curious people stood between him and his   
martial arts.  
  
Taking a sip of his soda, Ranma sighed. He felt tired. Really, really   
tired. It wasn't physical; that was something he knew how to correct   
very quickly. No, his problem was mental fatigue.  
  
(God... my head hurts...)  
  
(Stupid techniques... stupid school... stupid STUPID school! I can't   
believe they think I- Argh! They're stupid!)  
  
(Heh. They can't call Saotome Ranma stupid anymore, though. Stupid   
guys don't get seventy-three for history. Hah!)  
  
(Damned if I know what I'm gonna use history for, though.)  
  
(God damn! My head hurts...)  
  
(Hmm... that cloud looks like a duck! Heh... wonder what the guy's   
doin' right now...)  
  
(Hey! I actually feel better with my head tilted like this!)  
  
(Ohh yeah... this is much better. Man, this is great.)  
  
(Mmm... gonna stay here till-)  
  
"YOU are Saotome Ranma? A kid?"  
  
(Heh. Figures.)  
  
(Danger sense hasn't gone off though.)  
  
(Guess I'll wait.)  
  
(Damn, this is a nice breeze.)  
  
(Mmm... wow. That bakery down the street must've just made a new batch   
of bread.)  
  
(Hey... that smells like-)  
  
"Get up kid. This is a challenge."  
  
(Yeah right. Ya don't sound like Herb. Ya don't sound like Saffron.   
And c-c-ca- em... can't talk. I'm really gonna get up for ya.)  
  
(Man this breeze is superb...)  
  
(Maybe I should get Mom to cook-)  
  
"What's the matter kid? Too scared that ya hafta pretend not to hear   
me?"  
  
(Sigh)  
  
(Maybe-)  
  
"Scared lil kiddies shouldn't walk by themselves. You should stick   
with your momma, just like a CHICKEN!!"  
  
Ranma's eyes shot open, quickly narrowing into slits.  
  
****  
  
Akane gripped the handle of her school bag harder. She, along with   
just about everyone else present, could feel the suspense and tension   
in the air.  
  
(Ranma you baka! What are you doing?)  
  
More than anyone else though, she was overwhelmed with worry for her   
fiancé. He had been acting far too strangely for far too long. To make   
it worse, it seemed that whatever it was that he was doing didn't   
involve her. Her only comfort was the fact that he had left out all of   
his other suitors as well.  
  
"Get up kid. This is a challenge," said the challenger.  
  
Taking her eyes off Ranma for a moment, Akane considered the   
challenger. The young man -- Akane placed him to be twenty five --   
looked fairly powerful, standing six feet tall and built like a prize   
heavyweight boxer. He had a menacing countenance, his jeans and muscle   
shirt were well worn.  
  
Like the others present, she had heard that someone had come to Nerima   
to challenge Ranma and that her fiancé was last seen heading into the   
park. She rushed there, along with others eager for a fight.  
  
"What's the matter kid? Too scared that ya hafta pretend not to hear   
me?" taunted the young man, sneering.  
  
Looking back at Ranma, Akane felt her worry grow. Ranma should have   
answered the challenge by now, smirking with confidence and bouncing   
around the challenger.  
  
(What's wrong with you?! You JERK!) Akane unknowingly grit her teeth.   
  
(You act weird for a whole month, you don't tell me what's going on,   
and here's someone you can beat up and show how hot a martial artist   
you are you won't even get up and fight him and let me know you're   
alright!! You are SUCH A JERK!)  
  
A slight blue aura sprang up around Akane. Those nearby took note and   
stepped back.  
  
(You're more than a jerk! You're-)  
  
"-a CHICKEN!!"  
  
All of a sudden Ranma's eyes shot open and in the blink of an eye he   
was on his feet.  
  
"YESSS!!"  
  
Everybody, including Ranma and the challenger, blinked with an audible   
'piku-piku' and turned to regard Akane, who was widely grinning while   
looking very relieved, a single arm pumped in a celebratory pose.  
  
Understandably, Akane blushed like mad, and lowered her arm and eyes.   
  
"The name's Senbuzaku Kitaro," Akane heard the challenger announce.   
Looking up, she saw that Ranma and Kitaro were regarding each other,   
no doubt sizing each other up.  
  
Popping his knuckles, Kitaro said with a menacing grin, "I'm going to   
grind you into paste, Black Iron Claw style!"  
  
"Right," Ranma said, his voice as flat as his gaze.  
  
(Black Iron Claw?) thought Akane. She had never heard of it before.  
  
Kitaro lowered himself into a stance, and brought his arms up, That   
was when Akane really noticed his arms. They were _muscular_. Not just   
muscled but very lean. She could make out each muscle group, even some   
muscle strands. Veins ran like pipelines down his biceps and forearms,   
and his fingers were in clawing positions.  
  
Akane gasped.   
  
The hands. They looked as if they could tear through a car.  
  
(Be careful, Ranma.)  
  
Kitaro frowned when he noticed that Ranma hadn't gotten into a stance,   
merely standing there with a flat gaze.  
  
"Whassa' matter kid? Scared? Then why don't ya go running back to your   
momma?"  
  
She saw Ranma tense, then slowly slid into a stance. His arms were   
still at his side though. Akane started to wonder about that when   
Ranma shot his arms out. In the same heartbeat he snapped them back in   
a motion so fast, so strong that the air around him silently exploded   
away like a brief gale.  
  
Akane inhaled sharply, as did everyone else.   
  
Kitaro gulped audibly. No one could fault him, though.  
  
(What was that?) thought the Tendo girl, echoing the thoughts of so   
many others.  
  
(Was it just the motions of his arms? Or something more?)  
  
(Where did that depression around his feet come from?)  
  
Suddenly Kitaro rushed forward, clawed hand going straight for his   
opponent's face. Ranma merely wove to the side. Kitaro pressed his   
charge, changing the failed attack into an elbow strike.  
  
Again Ranma evaded the attack, stepping close to Kitaro, whose other   
arm shot upwards in a clawed uppercut, missed, and in a flash came   
down elbow first. Kitaro stepped forward, the first arm lashing out   
again. Ranma wove, moving into Kitaro's blind spot. A leg lashed out   
in a high back kick which, having missed, rapidly came down. Kitaro   
spun on that leg, executing a viscious reverse spin kick.  
  
Which, incidently, struck air.  
  
Kitaro turned to face Ranma, who still showed no interest, merely   
gazing flatly at him. The older man felt his eyebrow twitch; the boy   
was toying with him. He charged again.  
  
This time Kitaro pressed his onslaught for two whole minutes,   
employing very aggressive techniques. The crowd had long realized that   
he was no slouch, not when they could hear how the air whistled as he   
clawed for Ranma.   
  
The pigtailed boy, on the other hand, hadn't executed as much as a   
block. In fact it was painfully obvious he didn't think much of his   
challenger as he ducked, bobbed and wove without much effort.  
  
Akane was wringing her school bag in trepidation. (Something's wrong.)   
Ranma always fought on the challenger's level. (Except with me. Jerk.)  
  
Spinning quickly to compensate from a failed strike, Kitaro turned to   
face Ranma. He was gasping for breath, and didn't look particularly   
pleased.  
  
"What the fuck?! Fight me! Fight me you worthless son of a bitch!"  
  
Ranma's face darkened into a terrible scowl. Before the eye could   
blink, he was less than an arm's length away from his foul-mouthed   
challenger. Kitaro's jaw nearly fell off in disbelief at the speed,   
when he caught himself and rained punches, claws, elbows and knees   
onto his opponent.  
  
It was clearly pointless though, as Ranma blocked each and every   
strike. He blocked them deftly, his faceetched in a terrible scowl   
that made Kitaro's heart skip a beat more than once.  
  
The rain of blows continued for roughly five seconds -- suddenly   
Kitaro found himself staggering backwards, arms thrown wide. Again   
Ranma rushed him. This time, it was with such intensity that Kitaro   
felt that time slowed down.  
  
He could see with alarming clarity every detail on Ranma's face; how   
the boy's eyes narrowed in anger, how his mouth curled in disgust.   
  
Above all, Kitaro noticed how unstoppable Ranma looked.  
  
Then, Ranma was in his face, their noses nearly touching. Years from   
then, Senbuzaku Kitaro would remember the boy's voice. So calm, yet so   
cold, so focused that despite being a slight whisper everyone heard   
what Ranma said.  
  
"You should've left my Momma out of this."  
  
With that, Ranma pivoted on his right leg and sent a palm strike into   
Kitaro's solar plexus _hard_. The challenger flew backwards like an   
artillery shell, losing consciousness long before he smashed into the   
wall on the far side of the park.  
  
****  
  
For a few long seconds, silence reigned. Some of the crowd looked in   
the direction where the challenger had flown off to. The rest looked   
at the uncharacteriscally furious Ranma. No one really knew what to   
say.   
  
Suddenly, someone sneezed and the spell broke. The silent crowd   
instantly turned into a buzzing one.   
  
"Damn, that was short."  
  
"I'll say. One of the tamest fights I've seen for a bit."  
  
"Man, not even _one_ chi blast. Bummer."  
  
"So much for spilt blood and broken bones. Saotome must've been pissed   
though. He usually plays around with 'em a bit more."  
  
"Pay up, Jiro."  
  
"Argh! He lost?"  
  
"You bet against Ranma? Man, how about you just _give_ me your pocket   
money next time?"  
  
"Ranma-san looks better than ever!"  
  
"You've said it-"  
  
Tuning out the not so hushed whispers, Ranma turned and started to   
walk away. Maybe he could find another place to rest at.  
  
He didn't notice the single person walking a distance away behind him,   
following him. Ranma was in some far away land and his expression said   
that much.  
  
The pigtailed boy was nearly out of the park when the person called   
out. "Ranma?"  
  
Ranma gave no sign of having heard it, continuing to walk casually,   
hands in his pocket.  
  
"Ranma!"   
  
Still the young Saotome continued, not even flinching at the tone   
used.  
  
Then, in a soft, lilting voice more appropriately used to beckon   
newborn babies, the person gently said, "Baka?"  
  
Instantly Ranma stopped, and turned around to see Akane looking at him   
with a slightly confused and hopeful look. "Yeah, Akane?"  
  
Akane's confused look turned into one of mirth, and moments later she   
was giggling so badly, that her body shook as she held her sides.   
  
"You.." talking was hard when you were giggling.  
  
"I'm what?" asked an understandably irritated Ranma.  
  
"You... answered..." that was all Akane managed, and she giggled   
uncontrollably again.  
  
Ranma began to look quite cross and folded his arms across his chest,   
regarding his fiancée. Fortunately, Akane sensed his irritation and   
managed to control herself. Her mirthful look again became slightly   
worried and hopeful.  
  
"I..." she managed, obviously having a hard time.  
  
Her fiancé was beginning to wonder what it was all about and if it was   
good for his continued well-being. "Yeah?"  
  
Barely whispering, Akane tried again. "I..."   
  
It was taking a ridiculous amount of time, he thought. "Wh-"  
  
"Want to go have some ice cream with me?" Akane blurted. Her cheeks   
were a bit redder than usual, and she looked to one side, avoiding   
Ranma's eyes.  
  
"Huh?" said Ranma, _quite_ intelligently. He had lost the irritated   
look, gaining a stupefied one.  
  
Ranma's floundering look boosted Akane's confidence somewhat. "The   
ice-cream shop is just around the corner. Want to have some?" she   
asked, looking into his eyes.  
  
"Um..." Ranma started to say something, and caught himself. A puzzled   
look danced across his features for a few seconds. Again he started to   
say something, when he saw something in Akane's eyes. Their gazes   
locked, and he found himself quite speechless.  
  
In fact, both Tendo and Saotome were at loss for words. Neither knew   
how long they stood rooted at the park entrance, either.   
  
"Woohoo!"   
  
"Lookit the lovebirds!"  
  
"Straight outta the movies!"  
  
Fortunately -- or unfortunately, depending on your point of view --   
the audience from the fight earlier was there to bring them back to   
reality.  
  
Snapped out of their trance, the two of them wordlessly reached an   
agreement, and quickly shuffled out of the park with as much dignity   
as they could gather.   
  
Their beet red faces, however, completely ruined the effect.  
  
**********  
  
"You really like ice-cream, don't you Ranma?" asked Akane.  
  
They had just left the ice-cream parlour, and were strolling down the   
street. The crowd was of moderate size, mostly young people like   
themselves out to enjoy the late Friday afternoon.  
  
Her fiancé snorted. "They're okay, I guess," he replied nonchalantly.  
  
"Just 'okay'?" she quizzed.  
  
"Well... yeah. It's not like I'm crazy 'bout 'em or nothin'," came the   
answer.  
  
Akane glanced sideways at him. "I see," she said. "Is that why you   
have ice-cream dripping from your hair?"  
  
Ranma froze in his tracks. Slowly, he turned his head sideways to look   
at his fiancée, a quizzical look on his face. Smiling warmly, she   
returned his look, and nodded.  
  
"Gaah!" he shouted, arms a frenzied blur as he patted away furiously   
at his hair. Ranma wasn't too particular about his appearance, -- a   
manly man's natural devastatingly good looks would always shine   
through, afterall -- but looking like an idiot was anathema to him.   
That was what people like Tsubasa, Kuno and Ryouga were for.  
  
"Is it gone? Is it gone?" he asked Akane, in a nearly desperate tone.  
  
He didn't get an answer though; Akane was too busy giggling at the   
sight of him. Ranma felt his ire rise, only to deflate a moment later   
as he took in the sight of his fiancée, looking so lively, so   
carefree.   
  
She looked so happy. With him. Maybe it was okay to let her in close,   
just this once.  
  
For the third time that day, Ranma started to say something, only to   
lose the words on the tip of his tongue.   
  
(Damn... I give up...) he thought, settling for a rueful shake of his   
head, and continued to walk on.  
  
It took a few moments for Akane to realize that she was giggling by   
her lonesome, and she moved to catch up with Ranma, skipping as she   
went. It had been too long since she enjoyed herself and she was   
cherishing each moment.  
  
She fell in step with Ranma, who was sulking. Her smile grew; there   
was something about seeing a childish frown on a young man who could   
wield the energies needed to level a mountain.  
  
After a few more moments of silence and sulking, Akane glanced at   
Ranma again. "Oh, stop being such a grouch," she admonished, still   
smiling.  
  
Ranma's only response was to stomp his feet as he plodded along,   
sulking even more than before. Akane had to bite her tongue to keep   
herself from laughing out loud; the sight of Ranma like that was too   
much.  
  
Finally regaining control of herself, Akane went back to his side. He   
was still sulking. "Oh, c'mon Ranma." Seeing no response, Akane   
stepped closer to the pigtailed youth and timing herself, used her hip   
to gently nudge him.  
  
Ranma nearly stumbled, but caught himself. He threw his fiancée an   
irritated look, which she countered with a sunny smile. A slight   
breeze blew her hair across her features, and Ranma crumbled. Sighing,   
he gave her a small smile and continued to walk. He said nothing; even   
Saotome Ranma could learn that it was futile to try to say something   
to Akane that day.  
  
The two continued to walk silently. Occasionally they would bump into   
each other, but neither said a word. Ranma kept his peace; the   
occasional contact felt like taking Akane's hand and leading her out   
of Ryuugenzawa. That had been too long ago, he thought.  
  
Akane had a most contented look.  
  
They had just passed the cinema when Akane realized that Ranma had   
fallen behind. She turned around, to see him staring into space. Akane   
stepped up to him, frowning cutely.   
  
"Ranma?"  
  
Instead of replying, he continued to stand rooted, staring into the   
distance.  
  
Reaching out, she gave his sleeve a slight tug. "Ranma?" she tried   
again.  
  
The tug got his attention. He looked at her briefly and then back at   
where he was staring.   
  
Not knowing what to make of the situation, Akane stood next to Ranma   
and looked in the same direction. "What are you looking at?"  
  
"That guy," said Ranma, his voice low and controlled, "at the   
cigarrette stand."  
  
After a brief search, Akane found the vendor, and the man who was   
currently its single customer. He was dressed in a smart black suit,   
wearing designer shades, about thirty years old and looked very, very   
normal.  
  
"Yeah, I see him. What's wrong with him? He looks okay to me."  
  
"He's- look!" the urgency in his voice made her focus on the man, who   
was walking to a black Mercedes. Akane still couldn't find anything   
amiss.  
  
"Look at what? Ranma, you-"  
  
"He," Ranma interjected, voice full of conviction and focus, "is   
_strong_, Akane. Don't you see it?"  
  
Bewildered, Akane looked again, nearly squinting her eyes trying to   
find what Ranma found so fascinating. The man walked over to the   
passenger side of the car, and got in.  
  
"I don't-"  
  
"I'm gonna lose him!"  
  
"Huh?" Akane was starting to worry. Ranma had never acted like this   
before.  
  
"Here," said Ranma, pushing his school satchel into Akane's arms.   
"Take this. I'll try to be back by dinner."  
  
"What? Ranma- Ranma!" she all but shouted at her fiancé, who was   
already running after the black vehicle. It was no use. Even if he had   
heard her, Ranma made no sign of slowing down.  
  
Akane stood rooted, watching Ranma disappear into the crowd. She felt   
her eyes dew a little. It wasn't because their improptu date was no   
more. It wasn't because she felt cheated that he ran off without   
telling her what was going on.  
  
It was because of the sinking feeling she felt inside, that something   
bad was going to happen.  
  
She sniffled once, clutching his school bag tightly.   
  
"Come back."  
  
**********  
  
Saotome Ranma was in a quandary.  
  
Actually, he was in a plaza that was facing a tall building, but he   
was also in a quandary.  
  
He had chased after the black Mercedes through the streets of Tokyo.   
Luckily for him, his pursuit had taken place just at the start of rush   
hour. The world-famous traffic jams of Tokyo had allowed him to follow   
the car without having to resort to prolonged chi-enhanced measures.   
He could have handled it, but it wouldn't have been convenient.  
  
The chase had led him to the tall office building across the plaza.   
After spending nearly an hour in the traffic jam, the car had stopped   
outside the building. The man that had so intrigued Ranma stepped out   
of the car, and into Michigawa Tower, its name emblazoned over the   
entrance . The car drove away, but Ranma's attention was then focused   
only on the sixty-odd story building.  
  
That had been three hours ago.  
  
It was already dark, and the evening crowd had thickened. Ranma was   
painfully aware that most of the people walking the streets at the   
moment was out to have dinner, as his stomach rumbled.  
  
The youth steeled himself. There would be time for food later. He just   
_had_ to find out who that guy was and what he was about.   
  
Aside from Herb, Ranma had never seen anyone so strong in Tokyo.  
  
The man was strong, no question about it. Probably as strong as Herb,   
who was physically stonger than Saffron, although the Phoenix god's   
imitation of a fusion reactor was so good that a fight against Herb   
would most probably be level, if not one sided.  
  
Ranma shifted to sit cross-legged on the stone bench, contemplating.  
  
What was a man that strong doing in Tokyo? Ranma hadn't even needed to   
engage his Kijin Shikaku to know that the guy was strong. The way the   
man moved was enough. Even to most martially trained eye, the man had   
a normal gait. The young Saotome was anything but normal; to his eyes   
the man was a walking tsunami.   
  
Unstoppable.  
  
It would be hard to explain that to anyone, the youth realized. The   
only way Ranma could think of how to describe the man's walk, was that   
it was very much like his own.  
  
Actually, it was a walk more advanced and accomplished than his, but   
being Saotome Ranma, it was to be understood that it was only a matter   
of time until he caught up.  
  
(A month of training should do it. Nahh... make that two weeks.)  
  
A passing spirit heard his thoughts and rolled its ethereal eyes   
heavenwards. The spirit quickly shuffled away; the boy's confidence   
was overwhelming.  
  
Ignoring his rumbling stomach -- a truly great feat by male Saotome   
standards -- Ranma continued his contemplation, keeping his eyes on   
the building entrance.  
  
What was the man doing in the building?   
  
Who was he? A martial artist?  
  
How did he get that strong?   
  
What would a man that strong be doing in a business establishment as   
grand as the Tower?  
  
Was he a businessman? Or a hired arm?  
  
The pigtailed youth was starting to get another headache.  
  
He was about to shift his stand when a thought struck him: what if the   
man had left the building by means of another exit?  
  
All of a sudden, the boy was a nervously pacing one, mental gears   
nearly audible as he thought of what he should do. He suddenly stopped   
cold in his tracks, a grin blossoming. He had the perfect solution.  
  
Kijin Shikaku. Demon God Eyesight.  
  
Turning to face the building, the boy brought forth memories of how to   
distinguish human chi from other energies. Proper mindset ready, he   
focused his attention squarely on the Tower. He engaged the Kijin   
Shikaku.  
  
Ranma gasped, and immediately the Kijin Shikaku dissipated. He spent   
the better part of five minutes catching his breath, trying calm   
himself down.  
  
Finally getting his breath back, Ranma turned to look at the top   
floor. He had been expecting to see a single aura field five, maybe   
ten times more powerful than that of a normal human.  
  
He saw five fields. Three at tenfold. One at twenty. The last nearly   
forty. All in the same room.  
  
Ranma cursed under his breath. If before he had been in a quandary,   
then he was at the moment at a definite mental road block.  
  
"Hell! Now what do I do?"  
  
**********  
  
(I can't believe I'm doing this.)  
  
Ranma stepped into Michigawa Tower, slipping through the sliding door   
as an employee left the building.  
  
(Pop's gonna kill me if he finds out about this.)  
  
He was invisible. Courtesy of the Umi Sen Ken.  
  
(Heh. Not that I'd let him, but damn he can be a pain in the ass when   
he wants to be.)  
  
Gingerly he walked past the security post in the lobby. His soft   
slippers weren't making a sound, but he wasn't taking any chances.  
  
(Then again, he's a pain in the ass all the time. Now what?)  
  
He was standing in the elevator lobby. There were eight elevators in   
two rows, a plaque above each indicating which floors it serviced.  
  
(One to ten... eleven to twenty.. hmm.. forty-one to fifty...   
fifty-one to fifty-seven... Supreme Levels? Huh?)  
  
The last one was emblazoned above an elevator with an extra stylish   
façade. The doors were inlaid with a golden peacock instead of the   
silver flowers on the other doors, and was framed in intricately   
carved teak.  
  
(Top floors, I guess. Well, this is my ride. Now- damn!)  
  
Unlike the other elevators, the Supreme Levels lift had more than just   
a button. To one side of the teak frame was a glass panel framed in   
chrome. Ranma watched enough spy movies to know that it was a   
biometric sensor; not that Ranma knew the word biometry, but he knew   
trying to use it would backfire.  
  
(Shit! Now what?!)  
  
He looked around, trying to find anything that would take him to the   
top floors, or at least give him an idea how to reach them. He found   
none.  
  
(Well...)  
  
Ranma walked over to the elevator for the fifty-seventh floor. He   
pushed the button, and the doors opened. Muttering a silent prayer, he   
stepped inside, and as the doors closed, hit the button marked '57'.  
  
(Damn... the things I do to be the best...)  
  
****  
  
Slowly, the still invisible Ranma stepped out of the elevator. The   
ride had been uneventful, but that didn't stop his heartbeat from   
rising.  
  
The lobby was a tastefully lit corridor, though each of its end was   
dim. It was eleven o'clock afterall, and even the industrious Japanese   
knew when to call it a day.  
  
Picking a random direction, the youth headed for one end of the   
corridor. It lead to a poshly decorated foyer, a reception counter   
facing the entrance. The counter was empty, and the areas behind the   
glass doors on both sides of the counter was dark.  
  
(No one home, I guess.)  
  
He made his way to one of the glass doors, and gave it a little push.   
The door stayed shut.  
  
(Damn. Hmm..?)  
  
His eyes caught sight of a softly illuminated panel on one side of the   
door. It was a keypad, its buttons luminous green. There was no other   
visible means of unlocking the door.  
  
(Shit. I have a feeling I'm gonna see a lot more of this.)  
  
A quick check to the other door, and a dash down the corridor   
confirmed his hunch. Keypads all around, all the doors requiring   
keycodes or proximity cards to be opened. No alternative entrances   
were visible.  
  
(Great. Now what?)  
  
The youth made his way back to the lobby, feeling quite irritated, as   
well as a touch of disappointment. Glancing around, he saw a green and   
white sign above a wooden door.  
  
(The stairs!)  
  
Gleefully, Ranma made his way to the door. Turning the handle, he   
pulled the door open as quietly as he could. The act was pointless,   
since the hinges were well oiled and silent, but it paid to be   
cautious.  
  
Ranma stepped through the door, and into the stairwell, softly   
illuminated by a pale white bulb. Grinning, he made a move for the   
stairs leading up, when he realized the sound of the door closing   
could travel all the way down and into wary ears. Without looking, he   
reached out to grab the handle.  
  
Only to grab empty air.  
  
(Huh?)  
  
He immediately spun around and saw that his side of the door had no   
handle. In a flash his arm shot out, his hand catching the door just   
as it was about to hit the jamb.  
  
Ranma stood there for a few seconds, panting. Having caught his   
breath, he examined the door and its frame.   
  
There was no knob, or handle, just another keypad to one side of the   
door which swung outward from the staircase. One did not have to be a   
genius to guess all the doors on the stairwell were similarly   
protected. Had he not caught the door when he did, Ranma would have   
been trapped in the stairwell, the only unlocked exit being the door   
right behind the security desk in the lobby.  
  
(What the hell is wrong with these people?! Don't they trust anyone   
anymore?!)  
  
Stepping back into the lobby, the boy closed the door gently behind   
him. He sighed quietly.  
  
(Now _what_?)  
  
He was beginning to feel frustrated, a familiar feeling of late.  
  
(Hmm... what to they do in the movies? Let's see... that's it! Air   
vents!)  
  
Quickly he turned his attention to the ceiling, and nearly yelped in   
surprise. He was looking up, straight into a security camera. Forcing   
himself to calm down, he quickly checked his Silent Thief technique.   
  
It was still engaged. Ranma gave a heavy sigh of relief.  
  
(This _definitely_ ain't the Tendo house.)  
  
Scanning the ceiling, he quickly caught sight of a vent, part of the   
air ventilation system. Ranma leapt straight up and grabbed the   
stainless steel frame. He effortlessly clung to the frame; it was a   
Saotome specialty.  
  
(Please let this work. Please Kami-sama let this work.)  
  
He inspected the grill, looking for screws. Finding none, he slipped   
his fingers into the grill and gave a quick tug. It gave away.  
  
(Yes! Something that works! Yes!)  
  
Examining the grill, now hanging by its hinges, he found that the   
grill was secured by clips.   
  
(And away.. we go!)  
  
Ranma quickly clambered up the air vent, carefully pulling the grill   
behind him until he heard the telltale 'click.'  
  
**********  
  
"Urd! What are you doing?" hissed a very irritated goddess.  
  
"I'm searching the database, what's it look like?" answered the   
Goddess of the Past, equally irritated, if not more.  
  
"You can't do that! You're suspended! In fact you shouldn't be here,   
you nitwit!" Skuld gestured at the console of the Goddess Relief   
Office.  
  
Urd ignored her sister, and tapped away furiously at the console. A   
few moments passed, and she threw up her arms in frustration.  
  
"I can't get in!"  
  
"Well duh! You're suspended. Of course you can't get in," said Skuld,   
smirking. "Or have you forgotten the basic rules, hmm? Old age   
catching up with you, Urd?"  
  
The elder goddess gave no sign noticing her sister's taunt, and looked   
deep in thought. A thought struck her, and she snapped her attention   
back to Skuld.  
  
"Your licence is active."  
  
"Well _I_ wasn't the goddess who exceeded her Profanity Quota by a   
factor of-"  
  
"Help me."  
  
Silence.   
  
"What?" Skuld nearly screeched. Never in a hundred years did she   
expect to hear Urd say what she had just said, in the way she just   
did. It sounded like she was pleading. To Skuld.  
  
"I need to find this mortal. Now. I can't access the system, you can."  
  
"Uh-uh." Skuld backed away from Urd, shaking her head. "No way. I'm   
not risking my licence. Uh-uh."  
  
"Skuld, I need to find him."  
  
The younger goddess was at a loss. Her sister had never been like   
this.  
  
"I said no. I could get in seri-"  
  
"Please, Skuld," said Urd. She had dropped onto one knee and held her   
sister's shoulders. "I _need_ to find him. Please."  
  
Skuld was speechless. She couldn't think of anything to say. It was   
too weird. She could only nod once, the back of her mind yelling that   
it was a big mistake.  
  
**********  
  
(Finally!)  
  
After fifteen minutes of feeling his way through the shaft, taking   
random lefts, rights, a single up, more lefts, more rights, Ranma   
finally came to a grill that did not drop down into an elevator lobby.   
Peering past the grill, he saw no obstacles below, and carefully   
popped the grill open. He dropped through the opening, grabbing the   
frame as he came out, and swung himself up again, hugging the ceiling   
like an oversized spider.  
  
Gently he closed the grill. From his vantage point, he looked about   
underneath. He was in a darkened corridor, with no one to be seen in   
any direction. Still, he decided to keep the Silent Thief engaged.  
  
Satisfied with the situation, Ranma loosened his grip on the vent   
frame, and landed quietly on his feet.   
  
(Now to find that guy... lessee...)  
  
A brief flash of Kijin Shikaku yielded nothing. A sliver of light   
strayed into the hallway from under a door somewhere in the distance,   
and that ridiculously small amount of light was enough to illuminate   
the whole place for him.   
  
There was no sign of his quarries, however.  
  
(Huh?)  
  
Again, he engaged the technique and slowly turned around, scanning the   
entire level for the powerful auras. Nothing.  
  
(Where'd they go?)  
  
Ranma faced the end of the darkened corridor, and channeled more chi   
into his cornea than before. Still, nothing. He was about to turn   
around and face the other end of the corridor when something tugged at   
his heightened senses.  
  
(What...)  
  
He peered into the corridor. There was nothing to be seen, save for a   
vase on a side table of dark wood with a rectangular top.  
  
(There's nothin' there... why do I get the feeling there is?)  
  
Squinting his eyes, he still found nothing. His Kijin Shikaku was   
telling him otherwise.  
  
(What the- wait...)  
  
He calmed himself, and gathered his breath, focusing more chi than he   
had ever used for the Kijin Shikaku, or even the Mouko Takabisha. It   
took Ranma about a full second to channel the gathered chi into a   
super strong Kijin Shikaku.   
  
(Shit!)  
  
Now in plain sight, was a web of thin red lights. There were so many,   
each crossing so many others that the end result looked like a   
spider's web.  
  
(Ohh.. shit!)  
  
At first, Ranma looked at the strands in the distance. Realizing that   
some were pointing in his direction, he slowly lowered his eyes,   
following the strands.  
  
They passed through his chest. His abdomen. His left knee. His right   
ankle.  
  
(Oh fuck.)  
  
Ranma did the only thing he could think of. He _froze_.  
  
There had been many, many times in his lifetime, that Ranma had cursed   
his idiotic father, for whatever reason. This was not one of those   
moments.  
  
The Umi Sen Ken was the only thing that kept his body from breaking   
the laser strands.  
  
(Keep calm Ranma. Keep calm. Remember the movies? The lights don't   
break, your ass is safe. Turn around... see? Them lights so straight,   
you're safe.)  
  
(That's it... you're one cool dude Ranma. No need to worry 'bout the   
light thru yer chest, leg... no need to worry bout that web in f-)  
  
(...)  
  
(...web...)  
  
The pigtailed martial artist stared at the web of lasers. The web   
looked as if woven. He had seen a web of light before. But at the   
moment he didn't think of it as a web.  
  
He thought of it as a mat.  
  
A mat of soft blue light.  
  
(Kami-sama...)  
  
He disengaged the Kijin Shikaku, and gathered his chi again. His face   
was a mask of stony determination.  
  
Ranma straightened both his arms out. First he channeled intensely   
focused chi into his right arm. Feeling his appendage awash with   
power, he channeled chi into his left arm.   
  
The moment of truth.  
  
Each arm served as a conductor for a flow of chi so intense, that each   
arm had a polarized chi field. Countless individual chi strands flowed   
in a single direction, each never crossing another. So intense was   
this field, that the chi field was firmly oriented in whatever   
direction the arm was pointed.   
  
The boy crossed his arms, the right a few inches above the left.  
  
Ranma projected the chi from the arms and into the space between them.  
  
Instant soft blue square mat.  
  
Immediately Ranma forced his will into the mat. The mat was extremely   
responsive to his will, and in a split second Ranma wove the mat into   
the Second Construct.  
  
The mat disappeared.  
  
He inhaled sharply.  
  
(No... it's still there... I can feel it.)  
  
Remembering what the Second Construct did, Ranma slowly made his way   
towards the vase and the side table, Silent Thief still engaged.  
  
(Calm down boy... there's nothing to be worried about...)  
  
Ranma inched towards the table, heart pounding, not really knowing   
what to expect. He pressed forward, slowly, when something happened.  
  
The corner of the table disappeared, as if suddenly chipped away with   
an ultra sharp scalpel. Ranma could see the cross section, though it   
was blurred for some reason.  
  
Forcing himself to remain calm, Ranma stepped forward again. More of   
the table disappeared, along with one of it's legs. The table remained   
standing.  
  
Again he stepped forward, and this time half the vase disappeared,   
with it half the table. He could see straight into the vase.  
  
(What the...)  
  
Ranma was about to step forward again, when a hunch made him look   
about a hundred and twenty degrees to the left.  
  
It was all that Ranma could to stop himself from shaking. There, to   
his left, was half a table, with half a vase, standing upright, just   
like the half table and half vase on his right.  
  
Gulping audibly, Ranma took a small step to the right. Immediately   
what remained of the vase disappeared, along with a portion of the   
table. Glancing to the left, Ranma saw that the vase was now complete,   
and what was missing of the table on his right, was now added to the   
portion on his left.  
  
(Kami-sama...)  
  
He slowly moved to his left, to see a portion of the vase and table   
disappear, only to reappear on his right. He repeated the experiment a   
few times.  
  
The conclusion: the second chi construct resulted in a field whose   
spherical boundary could, upon contact, translate matter to another   
point on the boundary, where the entry and exit points form a chord   
within the sphere, while maintaining structural and material   
integrity.   
  
Of course, Ranma's conclusion was slightly simpler.  
  
(Shit! I can make the damn table pass me! Shit! It disappears there!   
It comes back on the other side! The damn table's in two places at   
once! Half is there! The other half is there! But it's still in one   
piece! I can control how much goes there, or there.... shit! SHIT!)  
  
Saotome Ranma, eloquene defined.  
  
Ranma was about to continue his internal ranting when a thought struck   
him. He disengaged the Second Construct, gathered and channeled his   
chi into his arms. He crossed his arms, and projected his chi. Again   
the blue mat appeared, hovering between his arms.  
  
Instead of folding it into the Second Construct, Ranma willed it to   
move. Just like the first time, the mat instantly complied, and it   
shot to a point three feet away from Ranma. It hovered.  
  
He willed the mat into the Second Construct. It disappeared.  
  
The young Saotome inhaled deeply. He knew the construct was there,   
even if he couldn't see it.  
  
Tentatively, he reached out. He was expecting to feel a tingling   
sensation, or something, but nothing came. He did however, see his   
fingers disappear from sight. Then his hand, up to his wrist.  
  
Ranma looked up, and saw his hand hanging above the edge of the table.   
  
(Damn...)  
  
He took a step forward, and sent more of his arm into the barrier, to   
see it disappear up to his elbow, and appear above the table.   
Tentatively, he grabbed the vase, lifted it and withdrew his arm. He   
stepped back, and pulled his arm clear of the boundary.  
  
Correction. He pulled back his arm and the vase from the boundary.  
  
(Oh kami...)  
  
His arms were shaking. Ranma couldn't help it. He had NEVER been this   
excited in his life.  
  
Arms still shaking, Ranma gently straightened his arm again, watched   
it disappear with the vase. As expected both reappeared above the   
table, and he put the vase down very carefully. He withdrew his arm,   
and disengaged the Second Construct, immediately feeling slightly   
drained.  
  
Ranma was beyond happy. He was beyond jubilant. He-  
  
"YES!!!"  
  
- was still a baka.  
  
****  
  
"Sir!"  
  
"Yes, corporal?"  
  
"Optical sensors tripped. Phonic sensors tripped. Supreme Level One.   
Sector zero-eight. Sector is supposed to be empty."  
  
"Glitch?"  
  
"Phonic sensors recorded a hundred-twenty decible peak."  
  
"Scramble all teams. Where are our distinguished executives?"  
  
"The Executive Elevator is on its way down. I'm guessing they're about   
to leave."  
  
"Page the elevator. They'll want to know."  
  
****  
  
(Oh shit.)  
  
Ranma was clamping his mouth with both his hands.  
  
(Did anyone hear that?)  
  
He remained very still. Even with the Silent Thief still active, he   
wasn't taking any chances.  
  
More chances, that was.  
  
(Hmm... I could've sworn I put that vase down exactly where I picked   
it up... hmm...)  
  
Ranma was very sure he put the vase down in its exact spot. He engaged   
his Kijin Shikaku, just to be safe.   
  
(Crap...)  
  
A single red strand was broken. The lip of the vase was a centimeter   
too far to the left.  
  
(Shit! Oh shit! What do I do? What do I do?)  
  
He was about to pace, when he looked down to the floor and engaged his   
Kijin Shikaku.  
  
(Oh bloody shit!)  
  
Thirty single-fold chi fields were making their way up. They were in   
the elevators. They were in the stairwells. That wasn't the bad news   
though.  
  
The bad news were the five nova fields. Two ascending very fast. Three   
slower.  
  
(Those five! Oh damn! The stairs! Oh shit! The lift! Oh fuck!)  
  
Ranma was starting to get extremely nervous. He could evade the normal   
people easily. The five, however...  
  
Who knew how sensitive they were to ki? For all he knew they could   
sense the Silent Thief if they were close enough.  
  
(Damn! Gotta get outta here!)  
  
He ran towards one end of corridor, towards the elevator lobby. That   
was the only way out.  
  
His way was blocked by a doule glass door. He pushed. It didn't move.   
He pulled. It still didn't move.  
  
Ranma was about to kick down the glass doors when his eyes caught   
sight of a green light by door. Looking closely, he saw it was the LED   
indicator of a switch. With nothing else to go by, he pushed the   
switch.  
  
The doors opened.  
  
He ran past the doors, and into the elevator lobby.  
  
(Now what? Now what? Now- Stairsstairsstairs...)  
  
He quickly pushed the door to the stairwell open, and took the stairs   
one flight at a time upwards. Going downwards wasn't an option.  
  
(Smart one Saotome. Be curious. Yeah. Be just like Nabiki. Be smart,   
be strong. Good one Saotome. Be Proud. Yeah.)  
  
Within five seconds he made it to the end of the stairs, at the final   
door at the top. Which, incidentally, did not have a handle or a knob,   
just a little panel to one side.  
  
(SHIT!)  
  
He searched for a switch. None. That left only one option.  
  
(Gonna hafta kick it down. Hope they don't mind or 'nuth- waiiit a   
minute!)  
  
Ranma stood back from the door, focused his chi into his arms, created   
the blue mat, sent it into the door, and engaged the Second Construct.  
  
(Kami-sama let this work, please!)  
  
The young Saotome dove head first into the unseen barrier.  
  
The immediate change of scenery from wooden door to starry night was   
extremely disorienting. Ranma did his best to stay standing.  
  
(I... I did it!)  
  
He turned around to face the door.  
  
(I went right through!)  
  
The Second Construct was there, he could feel it. Ranma had to resist   
the temptation of jumping through the field again just for the heck of   
it.  
  
(Time for that later moron!)  
  
Ranma turned his back to the door, and disengaged the Second Construct   
as he started to walk away. It was with no small surprise that Ranma   
found himself on his knees, panting.  
  
(Oh man! That move really sucks the life outta ya! No wonder I nearly   
died that day!)  
  
He forced himself to his feet; it wasn't a good idea to stick around.   
Running to the ledge of the roof, he saw that he was a good twenty   
stories above the tallest adjacent building.  
  
(Damn!)  
  
Quikly he made for the opposite ledge and peered over. It was at least   
thirty stories down.   
  
(All right, I'm screwed.)  
  
Suddenly, his hackles rose.  
  
(Oh shit. Something's coming.)  
  
His heartrate doubled.  
  
(Oh I am SO screwed!)  
  
Looking around, he saw for the first time that it wasn't a simple roof   
he was on. The roof had a helipad.  
  
The scaffolds of a helipad made for a lot of space to hide in.  
  
(Be cool Saotome. You've got nothin' to be afraid of. No one can hide   
fr-)  
  
"Ranma?"  
  
****  
  
Chaos.  
  
Chaos slithered around its Avatar. Its best ever.   
  
Soon its avatar would turn the gods themselves topsy turvy.   
  
Chaos would have laughed out loud, if it could.   
  
The stops had been pulled. Mortals and non-mortals alike would be   
effected. In fact, its Avatar would feel the effect very, very soon.  
  
Its Avatar was going to feel something he had never felt before.  
  
Lust.  
  
****  
  
A bad shiver ran down his spine. That voice behind him.  
  
That feminine, silky voice.  
  
"Ranma? Where are you?"  
  
Slowly, Ranma turned around, eyes closed.  
  
"Dam- uh... darn it! Where is he?" said the voice, hushed. "I saw   
Skuld pull up those files myself."  
  
Ranma opened his eyes.   
  
It was the woman from the temple, standing not five meters away. He   
nearly died soon after they had first met; he had all but forgotten   
about her. Even the intensely rapturous moment he laid eyes on her a   
month ago was nearly lost to him.  
  
That intense moment was coming back -- with a vengeance.  
  
His knees shook. He had trouble breathing. He lost his focus, and the   
Silent Thief dissipated.  
  
The woman's eyes widened, no doubt surprised to see him materialize   
out of thin air.  
  
Ranma felt himself tingling all over. He _knew_ the woman felt the   
same.  
  
A breeze blew, carrying with it the scent of the woman, which Ranma   
caught. The smell made the tingling worse; in fact he was starting to   
feel very, very warm, but he needed more. There was only one other   
source of warmth on the rooftop.  
  
That very source of warmth started to walk towards him, hips swaying   
indulgently, though she was obviously restraining herself from running   
towards him. Her arms shook visibly. He knew it wasn't because of the   
wind.  
  
He knew because his arms shook as well. His arms wanted to enfold her,   
his hands wanted to touch her.  
  
Ranma had no idea what was happening to him, why he was acting this   
way over a stranger. He did know, however, that he wanted to be close   
to her, she to him.  
  
Finally, they stood within an arm's length. He looked into her eyes.  
  
Urd couldn't understand it. She had teleported to his location so that   
she could talk to him, to find out why she felt the way she did, to   
get answers. Instead, she was losing herself to him, and it felt so   
right. It felt so right to not be herself, so right not to resist in   
the least. She lost herself in his gaze.  
  
"Why," he said, "are you here?"  
  
She took in his words, and his voice, and shuddered. He had no doubt   
it was a ripple of ecstacy. "I came looking for you," she replied, in   
a shaky voice, seductive even in nervousness.  
  
It was his turn to shudder, electricity running up and down his spine.   
It made him tingle. It made him warm. However, the warmth wasn't   
enough; he had to have more. The back of his mind was screaming that   
it was wrong, that this wasn't what he would do. The mental screams   
were silenced, however, by his desire for her. In fact, his desire   
rose when he saw the look in her eyes. It told him she _needed_ him   
too.  
  
"You've found me," he said breathlessly. "What will you do with me?"  
  
She gasped inwardly. What did she want with him? Urd searched herself,   
and found the answer.  
  
"Everything," she said softly, nervously. "I want to do everything   
with you."  
  
He inhaled sharply; it was the perfect answer. He stepped closer,   
reaching out to touch her delicate face.  
  
She closed her eyes, nearly shaking in anticipation. She could sense   
his skin, inching towards her cheek.  
  
He himself was shaking badly. The way the moonlight shone off her   
platinum hair was enough to make him lose control.  
  
His fingers touched her cheek, and they were in their own private   
world. Their knees buckled, and they fell into each other's arms.  
  
Warm. Oh so warm. So sensuously, addictively warm. Each had to have   
more, and their hands moved.  
  
A world of their own indeed.  
  
A world that was shattered at the sound of a door smashing open, of   
running feet.  
  
"Halt!!"   
  
Of shouting voices.  
  
Of an explosion that wrapped the world in absolute white.  
  
"Argghhhhhhh!!"  
  
And of a shout full of pain that rang throughout the night.  
  
==========  
  
To be continued....  
  
Foot Notes:  
  
Finally! Finished it!  
  
Sorry it took so long, but things got hairy on my end. Anyway, I hoped   
you guys liked it. Personally, I didn't think this chapter was all   
that good, but hey, I'm new at this. I'll try to do better next time,   
I promise.  
  
Some of you might notice that parts of this chapter bear resemblence   
to Carrot's "Gaijin #19". To be specific, the part with sneaking into   
buildings via air ducts. Just to be clear, I didn't copy it from him.   
I finished this fic about a month before he released that chapter. I   
posted the draft on a forum (no, NOT the Delphi forum), and members   
can attest to that. It took a while for me to get the final version   
out.   
  
And NO, I am not saying that he ripped my idea. We both ripped someone   
else's idea (as did John Woo), and wrote our stories at roughly the   
same time. So spare me the plagiarism speech or I shall get quite   
cross.  
  
This chapter might have birthed some unanswered questions, especially   
regarding Ranma's new moves. I'll get around to answering them in   
later chapters.  
  
A HUGE thanks to my pre-readers, namely Rezantis, Mads, Magus, Ranma   
Saotome, Corwin, KPJAM, Brian Randall, Latin_D, dracos, Akraen,   
Gabriel Blessing, Kinematics, Thermopyle and all those who bothered to   
read and c&c the draft. Apologies to those I've left out; it seems   
i've botched up the list of names. Really sorry about that. To you   
guys, thanks for the suggestions. I've tried my best to accomodate all   
of them, but unfortunately, some of them would take major rewrites of   
the fic. I would've done it, but I fear for my sanity. I'm barely   
clinging to sanity as it is ^^;;  
  
Also a heartfelt thank you to all of you who took the time to write in   
and give me encouragement. Cheers to Moon Klutz for sending me a nice   
mail that got me off my butt to start this chapter. 2 Cheers to Dragonbard  
for them mails!  
  
I would like to apologize for any and all grammar/spelling boo-boos.   
English isn't my first language, and I'm not any good in my first   
language either.   
  
If you think this is beginning to sound like a rejected Oscar's   
acceptance speech, let me explain:  
  
1. I'm really sorry that this chapter is late.  
2. I'm really grateful for the support and help I've received.  
3. I wanted to make the fic seem longer than it really is, for all   
those people keeping an eye on the page countdown. Did you like the   
ending? ^_^  
4. Yes, I'm feeling plenty pleased with myself, why do you ask?   
  
*grins*  
  
Any question, comment, input, tell me you hate/like the story/me,   
donations, etc to "bluefurballyahoo.com". Flames will be accepted,   
but won't do you any good as I won't care. If you do write in, please   
do me a favour and tell me where you're from. E.g. "Hoboken, NJ, USA"   
Just wanna know which part of the world has read my story, ya know.  
  
The author claims no ownership over characters and scenes from Ranma ½   
and Ah! Megami Sama. This work of fiction is for recreational   
purposes, with no commercial intent (or value). Bottom line? Don't sue   
me! ^^;  
  
p/s: If you know a way for me to get this _ancient_ DOS game called   
Death Track USA, please tell me. Pleaseee!  
  
Till the next chapter!  
  
God knows when that will be...  
  
-bluefurball- 


	4. Chapter 3 Preview

When Bakas Learn by bluefurball  
  
Chapter 3  
  
==========  
  
Kohito Usui shook his head slowly, sighing in disbelief. He could not believe that he was where he was, doing what he was doing. The younger operatives should be doing this, not him. Kids like that punk hotshot Matsuhito. It was what they were trained for. They should be here in the dark, seeing a world of white, green, and black.  
  
Instead, here he was. Wearing a black skintight suit men his age had no right wearing, wielding technology that was not supposed to exist. Not for another twenty years, anyway.  
  
Kohito suddenly froze, his train of thought derailed. The cylinder he had been tossing repeatedly in his hand had almost broken a laser strand. He muttered a curse; if the council had wanted the mission to be botched by a sauntering wiseass, they really would have sent in Matsuhito. Kohito was sure the punk didn't even wipe his behind right.  
  
A moment later, Kohito continued down the corridor, walking tall and proud. Every three feet or so his wiry figure would lithely bend, twist, or jump as he avoided the laser strands. The strands were tightly packed, but Kohito moved through the corridor like a sprite on a sugar high.  
  
Landing softly before the door at the end of the hallway, Kohito held out his hand, and the cylinder he had tossed before his final somersault fell flat onto his palm. He smirked behind his mask; he might be old, but he was still the best.  
  
Kohito pointed the cylinder at the sensor by the door. The indicator on the cylinder pulsated in red for a few seconds, until a soft click came from the door. Switching off the device, Kohito pocketed it as he opened the door, and stepped through the opening.   
  
The gadgets were making it really easy, Kohito thought. A blind moron could go anywhere with them. The White House. Fort Knox. Almost anywhere. Still, he was in Michigawa Tower; the only easy thing for intruders like him was to get killed, gadgets or no. Only the best should even think of being there.  
  
Besides, too many lives had been lost just for the opportunity. Untold more counted on him for their future. Kohito was going to do what he had to, even if he didn't like it.  
  
Silently, he briskly walked past door after door. There were no laser strands beyond the hallway, just heat, motion and audio sensors jammed by more of his equipment.   
  
Finally, Kohito stood in the middle of a large room, his destination. Glancing at his watch, Kohito nodded in satisfaction. Only slightly more than seven minutes had passed since his infiltration. The information on the security had been good; he had made a beeline to his current position. Kohito pulled another device from his webbing. It was time to make all those lives worth it.  
  
All of a sudden, Kohito's visor took on a reddish hue. He froze. One of his own silent alarms had been triggered.   
  
Pressing a button on the visor he spun around, and looked straight down. A soft hum came as the aural sensor photographed the energies beyond the floor he stood on. Seconds later the image was projected onto his visor.  
  
Groups of white dots were spread out over the building below him. Tapping a few buttons on his wrist console, Kohito brought up a three-dimensional blueprint of the building and superimposed it against the dots.   
  
All the stairwells and elevators were full of people.  
  
He grimaced, and took another aural photograph. The second image came only after a few painfully slow seconds. The dots were now much higher within the building; the security teams were sparing no speed.  
  
"Shit shit shit!"  
  
Kohito sprinted out of the room, towards the corridor. He dashed past the last door and into the laser-latticed hallway. No doubt alarms were being triggered as he ran through. Fuck the alarms, he thought. They were already on to him.   
  
Bursting into the stairwell Kohito made for the roof, taking a flight of stairs in a single bound, mind in a riot of questions. What had gone wrong? What triggered off security? His equipment was functioning perfectly. Then? A new system Michigawa installed secretly? Heads were definitely going to roll. His would probably be the first. Kohito pressed the panic button at his wrist.  
  
"Sir! I see him! He's heading for the roof!"  
  
The sound of the voice spurred him even faster. He could hear men running not far below. The voice sounded on his very heels. Matsuhito had better be ready. Kohito would die if the rookie wasn't.  
  
As he approached the final landing before the door to the roof, Kohito pulled out a wad of what looked to be gum. Stepping on the landing, he grabbed the handrail, and whirled around, throwing the wad as hard as he could at the door.  
  
Time seemed to slow down, as he watched the wad tumble in mid-air, slowly, clearly. It was in this manner, that a movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention. A thick cone rose vertically past the rail he was gripping. The shell looked plastic, and he could see by the stencilled markings that it was spinning.  
  
The wad of gum tumbled, and the spinning cone rose, both in slow motion. Kohito couldn't breath, only watch. Then, finally, the wad hit the door, and both it and the cone disappeared in a blinding flash.  
  
Kohito was flung backwards against the wall, his headgear absorbing the impact of his skull against concrete. Knocked breathless, he winced as the pain began to register. Blinking, he noted that his vision was darker. His headgear was dead, either from cushioning his impact or from the combined flashes overloading the optical dampeners. If the latter, it must have been quite a flash then; the visor had a limit of a million candelas.  
  
He shook his head vigorously, doing away idle thoughts. It was then that the top of someone's head broke into his field of vision on the stairs. Michigawa security. Shit.  
  
Springing to his feet, Kohito jumped for the roof door, as the guard came onto the landing, harpooning Kohito with a long stainless steel rod, a four-foot taser. The crackling tip missed by an inch.  
  
Kohito burst past the threshold and the splintered remains of the door. Any moment now, and he'd be safe. That punk Matsuhito had better not be late.  
  
A 'thunk' made him look at the ground before him. The sight made him falter -- it was another plastic canister. Though he knew better, Kohito's gaze was fixated upon the canister that rolled almost lazily, as he ignored voices behind him.  
  
Kohito Usui remembered a bit too late, that his visor was dead.   
  
The canister exploded, and hot pain lanced through his eyes, his brain. The world was in pure white. Kohito didn't even realize that he was screaming in pain.  
  
***  
  
The jolt was lightning up his spine, and snaked violently into his arms, then his legs. Before he knew it, Ranma had struck a stance reserved for his deadlier foes.  
  
Urd was woozy, breathless, and  
  
---------------------------------------------  
  
And you have just been teased.  
  
I prefer 'preview' to 'tease'. Sounds more professional, doesn't it?  
  
It's against my principles to tease like this, but a review by antvasima had prompted me to adopt desperate measures, to let YOU - fans of WBL - know that this story is alive and well.  
  
Everybody now thank antvasima for this preview.  
  
Anyway, I hope you like it so far. I'll try to finish it as soon as possible.   
  
Hint: C&C is like nitrous oxide to my writing speed.  
  
Have a nice day! :)  
  
-blue- 


End file.
